All Twelve of Me
by Etimire T
Summary: Four psychiatrists and twelve years after arriving onto a stranger's doorstep, John Smith has been diagnosed with multiple-personality disorders, psychosis and schizophrenia. However, Vastra believes John is much more than he seems and offers him a place in her prestigious and mysterious school for unusual and talented adolescents. (mutants/superpowers AU)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A New Adventure

"Don't worry, John." The woman's eyes betrayed her motherly hypocrisy as she held his face in her hands.

A stray wind brought to their ears the sound of the people beyond the gate. John ignored their shouts and spout of laughter, wanting to crystallize this moment in his mind.

At the road, a black cab waited for the woman to finish her goodbyes and John could feel blackish-purple impatience radiating off the cabby.

The woman was blue and grey like a rainstorm.

He quickly shook the vision away. His psychiatrist insisted emotions weren't a color. They were not visible.

John wanted for just a moment to feel at least slightly normal, so he blinked away the color and focused on the woman's words.

"They'll take good care of you." His would-be mother murmured, now holding him at arm's length, "They can help you. You belong here."

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself instead of him.

"It's alright, Sara Jane." John smiled sadly. "I know. I know this is for the best."  
><em>Even if I'm terrified<em>.

But he needed to reassure the woman who took him in all those years ago.

He remembered being quite young, standing in bare feet and shivering in the fog. Staring up at the door knocker, three year old John could never hope to reach it. Instead he laid down on the welcome mat, totally exhausted, and fell asleep.

John was aware that back then, he knew why he was at the doorstep and what had brought him there, but John could no longer recall these facts.

He didn't know what exactly he expected would happen when someone finally opened the door, but he had not expected a youngish looking journalist to bust out and nearly trip over him. She bent down quickly and ran a soft hand across his cheek. "Poor thing," she murmured, "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

The boy blinked but otherwise made no answer.

Cocking her head to the side, the young woman gave John a small smile, "I'm Sara, what's your name?"

Now there was a question John would like to know the answer to. Who was he before he was John Smith?

But we don't always get what we want.

John was ripped from the memory by Sara's sigh. She turned away in embarrassment, laughing without humor.

A single tear fell down her pale face, causing John's breath seized within him, and he almost gave in. Why are goodbyes so hard?

He needed to be strong, not just for himself, but for his adopted mother.

A small smile flitted across his lips before quickly fleeing. "A tear, Sara Jane?"

His mother sniffed and buried her head in his chest. It was strange, finally being taller than her, to have her ear on his chest instead of the other way around.

"EXCUSE ME, LADY!" Came a coarse cry, "I've got places to be, if you don't mind!"

John rolled his eyes. What was with cabbies and rudeness?

Sara Jane Smith snorted indignantly and drew away from her adopted son. Heat rose to her cheeks and John almost felt sorry for the receiver of such wrath.

"EXCUSE YOURSELF!" Sara shouted, strutting back to the cab, "Who do you think you are?"

The cabby started the car and ignored her.

_Oh, clever_. John thought, realizing what the cabby was doing. He took back the nasty opinion he'd begun to develop of him. _Good man, making goodbye easier_...

John almost smiled. "I best be going, Sara. But I'll see you this Christmas, okay?"

Sara withdrew from her ranting to give him one last, lingering look.

_'__Such a brave boy…'_

John let go of an inner sigh, of all the times to hear voices...

Nodding shakily, it was obvious Sara was trying to be strong for John. Sara got in the car, closed the door, and rolled down the window.

John didn't move from his position in front of the imposing gates.

"Now John," Sara called, "You take your medicine and do exactly what the teachers tell you, alright?"

John gave a mock solute, "Of course, Mom."

It had been a while since he called her that, and John could see it hit a cord within Sara Jane.  
>She smiled tearfully, clearing her throat for one last instruction. "And you call me on the weekends. EVERY weekend, do you hear me, John?"<p>

John smiled, "Loud and clear." He took a step toward the gate, hands stretched sideways. "See ya around, Sara Jane Smith."

It was his personal conviction to never _actually_ say goodbye. He left with the impression he would see her shortly.

Whether this was to lessen Sara's pain or his own, John wasn't sure.

The cab pulled away, golden leaves crackling under the wheels. Then John Smith was left alone in front of the imposing gate. It was metal, quite old, and incredibly large. Frowning uncertainly, John clutched the strap of his blue backpack tighter. He leaned in to look between the bars, but found his vision blurred. The image beyond the gate wobbled and melted in and out of focus. The effect reminded John of a heat wave.

Was his 'condition' acting up again? John honestly didn't know. He'd never seen stuff like this before. His hallucinations usually consisted of much stranger images...

To the right, on an inconspicuous bronze sign was written, **SUATA- School for Unusual and Talented Adolescents**.

Well… John was in the right place… Although he wasn't sure about the 'talented' part.

He began to wonder how on Earth he was going to get in when a small door to his left opened up.

Blinking, John stared at the opening in the wall stupidly.

"You comin', kid?"

John jumped, startled by the gruff voice from within the doorway. "I-"

"You John Smith?" The voice interrupted.

Gulping, John nodded quickly. "Yeah- that's me." John Smith- a schizophrenic and psychotic mess, according to four psychiatrists, who had basically concluded that John was off his knocker.

The fact that he was singled out for this mysterious school was a miracle in of itself. No one really knew what happened within its walls, but the kids all came out successful, educated, and happy, so it had a good, if clandestine reputation.

Why was he chosen as a student, and why in the middle of the school year? John had no idea.

They told Sara Jane they could help him, and she believed it.

"Don't just stand there, kid." A chubby hand snaked out and pulled him into a tiny office of some sort. "Just let me do a thumbprint test-" the man mumbled, "There are a lot of people we are trying to protect in here, so I have to make sure you are who you say you are."

The man pressed John's thump against a thin sheet of metal for a moment. It beeped and flashed green, which John took to be a good thing.

However, at the moment, John was too stunned to do anything but gape. "You're- you're-"

The obese man rolled his eyes, muttering something obscene under his breath.

Meanwhile, John finally found his voice, "You're BLUE!" He gasped, blinking rapidly. Was this another hallucination? It had to be.

_But my hallucinations never look like this…_

The blue-skinned man was dressed in clothing similar to a school janitor. He gave him a sardonic glare before handing him a map of the school grounds. "Get used to it, Smith." The blue man said, "You'll see stranger things before you're finished here."

Laughing nervously, John let the man show him through the office and toward the school grounds. "Um, look- I don't-"

"Get out there, Smith. The principle will want to see you as soon as you can get to her office."

John felt like a fish with all the gulping he was doing. The blue man typed an access code into a plate next to the door, and it opened with a hiss.

Immediately, the blue man pushed John forward and shut the door again.  
>Stumbling, John attempted to keep his feet from under the bombardment of noise and smells and emotions and people. John didn't understand why he hadn't seen all of this from outside the gate.<p>

Blinking in the bright sun, John watched in bafflement and shock, the scene before him.  
>A small boy ran across a pond, a girl sat on an invisible bench, and a teenager poured out a glass of water, presenting an icy rose. A man with two heads lumbered across the front lawn, and a glass doll tumbled across John's feet.<p>

"Watch it!" The doll muttered, picking up her backpack and racing off.

Tuning in a large, unsteady circle, John's eyes nearly fell out of his head.  
><em>What <em>is_ this place?_

Suddenly he heard a voice call out above the rest. "Hey you! Lost?"

Spinning in surprise, John tripped over the untied shoelace of his red converse and toppled backwards into a shallow fountain.

"Oh my gosh!" The voice shouted, closer now. "I am _so_ sorry, are you- are you okay?" the voice paused, but didn't give John a chance to respond, "It's good you're not like my friend Laya. One drop of water and she melts- literally, like witch of the west- wizard of Oz. It's totally epic."

John coughed, shaking water from his gravity-resilient hair like a dog would. "Okay." He wasn't sure what else to say. "This is humiliating."

John finally got the water out of his eyes and saw the girl had stretched out a black-leather clad hand. "Here," she said, grasping his pale arm. She had a strong grip for such a small hand. It only took a moment for her to pull John upright.

It was only then that he got his first look at the girl. She wore black leggings and black boots that came up snugly to her knees. Gold zippers lined the dark jacket she wore.

Her blonde hair was cut harshly at her shoulders and a black streak ran through her bangs. Smokey eyes stared at him with embarrassment and a bit of amusement. She wore black lipstick and carried herself with a sort of 'off limits' attitude. No boy would ever have the guts to mess with this chick. Despite this, John couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was.

John realized he'd need staring for just a bit too long and felt his cheeks heat up. _Bloody hormones. Not even fair…_

Coughing to cover his mistake, John blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Aren't you burning up in those clothes? It's like ninety degrees out here."

It was a rare warm day that autumn.

The girl shrugged, "I'd ask the same of you, ya know, if you weren't just dumped in the fountain."

John looked down at his clothes and realized she was right. He wore nicer clothes than he usually did, a dress shirt, tie, dress pants, and a trench coat because Sara was paranoid.

John shrugged, a small smirk resting in the curve of his mouth, "Suppose you're right." He said, wringing the tail end of the brown outer garment. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the tattered remains of the school map. Groaning inwardly, he wadded the paper up and stuck it in his pocket again.

John expected the girl to move on now, but she didn't, instead she leaned in and saw the useless map. "Oh that's a shame," she offered sincerely, "Are you a new student?"

John nodded in confirmation, "I'm supposed to meet the principle or something. Do you think-?"

"Oh sure!" The girl interrupted, "I'll show you the way." Her reluctant smile clashed with the tough-girl attitude she had going on. "I threw my map away before looking at it when I first came here- _Really_ bad decision. I ended up three days late for my first class."

"Three days?" John was incredulous. How big _was_ this place?

The girl nodded with complete seriousness, walking him to the front door of a massive mansion that was the main school building. They climbed up the steps, passing students studying on the stairs.

"It's bloody impossible to navigate at first. It's like the halls deliberately want you to go to the wrong place." The girl smile back at him, "I'm Rose, by the way."

John nodded, "John." he offered in return.

They walked in silence for moment before Rose bit her lip, thinking, "It's unusual for Vastra to bring in another student in the middle of the year." She said.

Principle Vastra- of course.

"Do you have any idea why she let you in right now?" Rose continued. Her question was relaxed, honestly curious.

John shrugged, his eyes bouncing from the basketball sized burnt holes in a sculpted hedge and the kid who was throwing the balls of fire. "Honestly?" John sighed, "I don't even know how I got accepted in a place like this- I don't know how any of this is possible!" He gestured vaguely at the hundred or so of impossible children and laughed without humor, "I didn't even apply!"

The girl gave him a strange look John couldn't interpret, "Well of course not," she chuckled, skipping the open doorway. "None of us apply. Vastra picks us individually."

_That's usual._ John thought.

He followed Rose, his converses squeaking on the tile floor. He left small puddles of water in his wake.

The ceiling rose high and domed above them. It depicted several painted scenes, some of peace and others of vicious battles. "Whoa." John breathed, head tilted back. He blinked, taking the sight in, and was too enthralled to notice the entrance of another person until John heard the man's voice.

"Stop immediately or you will be obliterated!" Came the quick command.

John froze and slowly swiveled around.

Rose stopped a few feet ahead of him and huffed impatiently. "Every bloody _time_!" John heard her mutter, "Come on Strax! It's not like he blew hole in the ceiling!" She complained.

"For your information, insolent BOY, these floors were mopped not an hour ago. I will not have some _girl_ ruining the tile finishing!"

Rose looked like she was giving herself a mental face palm. John stayed completely still. The man before him came up only to John's waist, but he held out a frying pan in an extremely threatening way. He wore a stocky black suit and had a body to match. Idly, John noticed the man sported just three fingers on both of his hands.

Glancing at Rose, John felt reassured that the strange butler/doorman meant no harm. If Rose wasn't scared of him, neither was John.

The man called Strax suddenly turned his attention to John and sniffed him, "You are new here, girl, so you shall live this once- but do not dare to cross me again!"

Repressing a smile, John nodded seriously, "That is very kind of you, sir."

And with that, Rose grabbed John's arm and pulled him through the high ceiling-ed room. "I don't know why Vastra won't hire a decent butler…" she muttered.

"Why'd he call me a-"

"Don't take any offence, John. He's short sighted- always mixing up people's genders."

"Oh. I guess that's alright then…"

Two staircases curled upward to the second floor, and Rose led John there.  
>The floor switched from tile to red carpet. It was the sort one might find in a fancy hotel. Kids raced by, late to their classes.<br>Yet again, John wondered how he managed to wriggle into such a prestigious school... It was not the first time he wondered this, and it would not be the last.

**_AN: What do you think? Review, Follow, Favorite!_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Spectacular Tomorrow

"So where are you taking me?" John asked after a few minutes of walking in silence, realizing he didn't know.

"Principle Vastra will want to see you. She always talks to the new students individually."

John nodded, "Right. The blue dude at the gate said she would."

Glancing back at him, Rose smiled in amusement, "Oh, that's Dorium. He didn't pick you pockets, did he? He's a bit of kleptomaniac."

"A klepto- what?"

"A compulsive thief."

"Oh." John checked his pockets, which were empty anyways. Everything he had was in his backpack.

As they wound through the halls, they passed a few open doors. There were classes in progress- Anger Management, Humanoid Hydraulics, Art. Even the normal sounding classes were strange when John peeked in. The anger management students, ten feet tall of more, were busy slapping rubber dummies, and/ or, being slapped _by_ the rubber dummies. In Humanoid Hydraulics, the students hovered several inches from the floor, meditative and totally silent. The art class was being conducted by a man with at least twenty arms.

John's jaw looked like it would stay in a dropped position permanently. Rose frowned at him, "You alright?" she smiled sympathetically, "It's a lot to take in all at once."

Shaking his head, John tucked his hands into his pockets and bounced back and forth on his heels. "Um… yeah. A bit much…" he murmured.

_I must be hallucinating… Again…_

"Hey!" Rose waved her hand in front of John's blank face, "Here, come on. I'll get you to Vastra. She'll explain everything."

"I think I'm crazy." John murmured, letting Rose tug him along, "I mean, more than usual…"

"You're not crazy, John. If you were crazy, I wouldn't be able to see everything, right?"

"Maybe I'm making you up too."

Sighing, Rose turned a corner and stopped in front of a Victorian style door. "This is Vastra's office. I can't go in with you, but I'll wait outside if you want."

John withdrew from the girl, marveling at her kindness. It was pink and yellow. "Th-thanks." He stuttered.

His footsteps made little noise as he approached the door. Gulping, John looked back at Rose pleadingly, but she just nudged him forward with her eyes. "Go on. She's not going to bite- well… actuall-" at John's expression, she quickly changed her words, "Yeah, she won't bite. Go get 'em."

Nodding firmly, John faced the cherry wood. It was so clean he could see his reflection. John saw the nervousness in his eyes. Sighing, he closed his eyes and then opened them again. No stopping now…

Thinking back, If John never stepped through that door, if he had changed his mind and run off, well, there would not be a story to tell.

But of course, he knocked.

Immediately, the door strung open on well-oiled hinges. "Come in!" a female voice ordered. "Close the door behind you!"

Dreading every step, John came forward.

Upon treading into the room, he was immediately blasted with humidity. Plants hung in every area available. Trees were on the floor, and other tropical plants hung in woven baskets. Surprisingly, a cloud hung in the air, obscuring the ceiling from view. The carpet had originally been red, but it was littered with leaves and bits of grass, and was no longer visible. Throughout the room, shafts of sunlight stabbed the air, creating a dappled, twilight feel to the area.

"Do you like it?" a voice murmured.

John spun around. He was so engrossed in the scenery that he failed to notice the woman sitting in a woven chair, behind a glass desk.

She leaned back, her hands crossed in her lap. The woman wore a black dress and a veil covered her face. Honestly, John didn't understand how she wasn't sweltering in this heat.

"Um... yeah." John said, in answer to her question, "It's a bit hot, though."

The woman smiled from under her veil, "Yes. It is. I like it that way." Leaning forward, she withdrew a file from a glass drawer.

John frowned in bafflement. The desk was glass, see-through, but he couldn't see _inside_ of the drawers. The file seemed to appear out of thin air. "Oh did-"

"John Smith, I presume?" the woman interrupted, "Sit down. I am Principle Vastra and you will address me as such. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes _what_?"

John frowned, "Yes… Principle Vastra?"

Vastra smiled, nodding her head, "Good boy. You'll catch on fast. Now…" she flipped through some pages which John assumed was his file. "How do you like my school, John?"  
>"It's a bit…"<br>"Insane? Impossible?" Vastra supplied, amusement in her voice. She slapped the file down, making John jump. "First of all, I want you to know, John, that this is not a hallucination." She withdrew her veil from her face and stared at him without expression.

John was sinking into a chair, but now his legs gave out and he plopped down in shock and disbelief. She was green, with scales instead of skin, yet despite it, she managed to hold an air of elegance.

"Oh my…"

_How can this _not_ be a hallucination? _

John laughed without humor, "This is _crazy_! Just down the hall there's a kid shooting bullets _out of his mouth_! And you- you're-"

"I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time." Vastra finished for him, enjoying his baffled eyes.

"Last time I checked that's imposs-"

"Last time you checked," Vastra interrupted, "You lived within a very confined worldview that the government has put in place. Did you really think that the impossible was really impossible?"

John said nothing.

Vastra chuckled, "Of course you did. But that's not the point. The point is that there is much more to the universe than you ever knew and you are one of the lucky few who get to experience it."

John was still incredulous, but he didn't protest. He could feel the honesty coming off of her like yellow sunlight. She wasn't lying, at least, that's what his 'perceptions' told him. "Okay…" John murmured, "Say for a moment I believe you, then why me? What's so special about me? Why do _I_ get to 'experience it'?"

The lizard woman nodded, like she was expecting this question. "Yes. Well let's see." She glanced down at John's file, flicking through it. "You have a history of Psychosis- specifically Schizophrenia, all which is rather normal with my students." She read for a moment, "Four psychiatrists, _really_?"

John blushed, "Yeah, well. I kept biting them."

"And why _ever_ did you do that?" The Principle murmured, "I'm not judging you, psychiatrists have a very unique taste, hard to find anywhere else. I'm just curious."

Looking at the floor, John shrugged, "They kept telling me what I saw wasn't real."

"Of course they did. But do you know what, John?" her voice was soft now.

"What?"

"Just because something isn't seen, doesn't mean it isn't there." Slowly, Vastra replaced the file into her glass drawer. "See?" she murmured when it disappeared. "You can't see it, but's still there. You don't see what's not there, you see what everyone else misses."

John closed up now. What she was saying was too much. He'd lived all of his life with the condemnation that he was insane. Now she was telling him… he _wasn't_?

It was too much- too much to take in all at once. "You're wrong." He whispered quietly. "It's not real. What I see is just an illusion- a figment of my imagination- a _disease_."

He watched her disappointment drip onto the table- grey, watered-down ink. Quickly, John looked away. Vastra sighed, "You'll come to believe me with time, John. Right now you don't have to think about it, but we will broach with subject again sometime soon."

Nodding, John slumped in his chair and waited for her to dismiss him.

She didn't.

Instead she leaned back, crossed her hands on her lap and stared at him in total silence for several seconds. "Now." she murmured, "There is something else we need to talk about. Something not even your psychiatrists know about."

No.

She couldn't know. She couldn't _possibly_.

"What _number_ are you right now, John?"

_No way._

John stiffened, shifting in his chair uncomfortably, "How- how can-"

Vastra rolled her eyes. A fly flew by her head and her tongue jumped out and lapped it up. John was too shocked to be grossed out. "Oh John, I work for the government. I know everything." Her eyebrows rose, "Well?"

John gulped. Sara never told anyone, he was sure of it. No one but the two of them knew about those strange dark nights when he hid under his blankets. No one knew about the pain in his chest as invisible fire consumed him and he woke up hours later without any knowledge of what transpired. Anything that held his reflection would be crushed, blood from his fists on the sharp edges, but no cuts on his hands.

Only Sara Jane- his mother- knew. She kept him safe on those nights, kept him hidden. And now this- this _lizard_ thought she knew _everything_. John gulped. No going back now.

"I'm not a _number_, Principle Vastra." John spoke, his voice quiet. "I'm just me."

She nodded, her sympathy baby-blue. "Of course." She wasn't as flippant now. John figured she'd seen the terror in his eyes.

She leaned forward, her gloved hand on his. "I need you to trust me, John. I want to help, do you understand?"

How many times had he heard that? John lost count. "I understand." He choked.

Then Vastra leaned back, all business again. She let John compose himself before asking her next question. "Now, I need you to tell me. How many numbers are there?"

That's how he thought of them- of these strange episodes. Some episodes felt different, unique, its own. Each type of episode had a number. John bit his lip, "One through twelve." He bit out.

Vastra was silent, processing this information. Slowly, curiosity got the better of him, and John looked up from the ground. He expected Vastra to pitying, condescending.

But she wasn't. She was kind and fascinated. "How unusual…" she murmured. "If I was I psychiatrist, I would diagnose you with a multiple personality disorder-"

John knew that. Sara had looked up the symptoms on the internet and that was the closest diagnosis she could come up with.

"But-" Vastra continued, hanging the word up to dry, "I doubt you're that mundane, John Smith." She smirked kindly, "John Smith, such an ordinary name, for such an extraordinary boy…"

John blinked. What did she know about him that he didn't? Suddenly he dying to know. What exactly _were_ the episodes? Why did they happen, and why couldn't he remember what happened for hours, even _days_ after? He opened his mouth to ask, but was hushed by a gloved finger. "Thank you for coming to my school, John. I hope we can benefit you in every way. We will talk again later."

"But-"

"Go on. You're already reeling under all that I've told you, I can tell. Now shoo! I've got things to do." She reached under her desk and pulled out a piece of laminated paper. "This is your class schedule. You will follow it to the dot. Tardiness is not tolerated."

John took it from her, not looking at it, and just like that, Principle Vastra dismissed him.

Realizing it was impossible to get any more answers out of her, John slowly stood up and walked across the room. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at the principle. "I don't know if you're right about my hallucinations, but…"

"But?"

John bit his lip and turned away. _But I hope you are._ "Never mind." He said instead.

Then John turned the doorknob and exited the office.

He couldn't see, but Vastra looked up as he left. She smiled. No doubt about it, that boy was going to be spectacular someday…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Wow. I did not think this many people would read this. Thank you for going through with it! So my plan originally was for this to be an X-MenDoctor Who crossover, but I don't know enough about X-men to do that, and I really just like the idea of a school with a bunch of 'strange' children. So if you see similarity, that's why. Review, Follow, Favorite! It makes me SO happy!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A Telescope Full of Stars

"Okay…" John muttered, looking at his door. Up and down the boy dorm hall, a variety of exotic doors marked the walls. He glanced at his class schedule, which also mentioned his dorm room number.

**_Room Ten_**

**_John Smith_**

It stated the words in swirling, gold lettering, backed against an oddly blue door with white squares toward the top. The edge of the door was dark, like something exploded within and the soot seeped through the cracks. John liked the color. It was the color he often associated with loneliness, but it was also soothing and gave him a sense of reassurance, the way a policeman's coat does.

Now. If he could find the doorknob…

Feeling slightly idiotic, John pushed the door, hoping it opened inward. No luck.

"Bloody h-"

"You've gotta scan your finger." A voice spoke helpfully.

John swiveled around, feeling totally humiliated. "Right. Of course."

The boy who'd spoken smiled. "Don't tell anyone, but I did exactly the same thing when I first got here."

The boy was skinny and held himself awkwardly, like he wasn't sure whether he was supposed to talk or not. Dirty-blonde fell into bright blue eyes and he had a large Adam's apple that bounced when he spoke. He wore a checkered dress shirt and a sleeveless jacket that looked like it came right out of _Back to the Future_. "I'm Rory, by the way." The boy said. He held out a hand and then put it back to his side like he wasn't sure whether that was the proper thing to do.

John nodded slowly, "Yeah, uh, hi. I'm John."

"I know." Rory said immediately, and then after seeing John confused expression, pointed at John's door. "Your name- on the door."

John glanced at the door and then back at Rory. "Right. Of course."

They stood in the hall awkwardly for a moment, and then John turned toward the door. "So I just-" he put his left thumb on the door, "And it scans it?"

Rory laughed lightly, "Ah- no. Not exactly." He stepped forward and moved John's other hand to a blank space on the wall to the right of the door. "Left handed?" he asked.

John nodded, pressing his right thumb against the wall. A blue light appeared and quickly scanned his finger. A lighthearted 'bing' sounded, and the door cracked open. John blinked. "Wow. I didn't know this technology existed in real life."

Rory agreed, "It's all a bit weird at first, but you'll get used to it. I arrived at the beginning of this year."

"About a two months ago then?"

"Yeah."

John nodded, poking his now unlocked door. He smiled at Rory, "Well it was nice meeting you, Rory." He stuck out his hand and Rory shook it.

"You too, John. See ya around?"

'_I wonder what's special about him…'_

John shook the voice away. He didn't have time to be delusional, especially right now when he didn't have a single friend.

Frowning in concern, Rory released John's hand. "Hey, you alright?"

Shaking the webbing of the voice away. John nodded. "Yeah. Fine. Sorry."

Rory nodded slowly "Do you do that a lot?" he asked, hands in his pockets.

John's brow furrowed. "Do what?"

_Great_.

He just ruined a chance to make a friend by weirding him out within the first five seconds... John honestly could say he'd never had a friend before. Everyone ran when they realized he was crazy… John sighed inwardly.

"You totally blanked out for like, three seconds or so."

_Don't hid who you are, John. If they don't like you as you, then they aren't real friends._ Sara's voice whispered in his head.

She was right, of course. No point in lying.

"Ah, yeah. I do that. Not sure why."

He waited for a condemning glance from the boy, but it didn't come. Instead Rory just nodded. "Eh, I've seen stranger things." He smiled. "Shoot, I've _been_ stranger things."

John wasn't sure what that meant, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. "Well," he pointed into his dorm. "I better get unpacked. The schedule says dinner is at six."

Nodding quickly, Rory back up toward his door, which was across the hall and a few doors to the right. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Go right ahead."

With a quick smile John started to slip into his room when he saw the color of hesitation make marks in the carpet after Rory. John paused, waiting at the door.

Sure enough, a moment before Rory entered his dorm, he turned back. "Hey, talking about dinner,"

"Yeah?"

"Well, my friends and I always sit together…"

John wondered where this was going.

"You can," Rory continued, "You know, sit with us if you want." Rory looked nervous, like was afraid John would say no.

John felt warmth fill his chest. Smiling widely, he nodded. "That'd be great!"

"Really?"

"Of course!" John chuckled, "Otherwise I'll have to sit by myself like a loser."

Rory grinned. "Cool! I'll see you then, then?"

"Yeah."

And with that, John slipped into his room feeling like a million bucks.

However, the moment he looked around the dorm, every thought about dinner escaped him. His blue backpack slipped from his shoulders and thudded on the floor. "Oh man, no _way_!"

He breathed.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and he stood grinning like an idiot, surveying the dorm.

The room was a cascade of different shades of blue and grey, going from the lonely dark color, to greyish-blue tears, to baby-blue happiness and carefree laughter. John laughed right along with the colors, spinning in a circle. He picked up the backpack and threw it onto the bed, which was circular and as expected- blue with grey pillows.

The ground was made up of large metal panels that were cool against bare feet, and the walls stretched up, not blue but a waving, ridged steel. The bumps reminded him of the inside of cardboard when was split open on the inside. There was a stainless steel desk and a sky-blue lamp on top. A spinning chair sat in the middle of the floor, to be used at the desk, and a blue dresser sat in the corner.

The room itself wasn't overly large, as far as length and width, but it was at least twice as tall as a usual bedroom. In the corner, a stainless steel, spiraling staircase led up to a small loft where there was a large beanbag, a bookcase, and to John's delight, a telescope. He let out a shout and raced up the stairs. The bookcase was empty except for a single book on mechanics and engineering.

John gaped. "How did they know?" he murmured. How could they know how much he loved to build?

_What do you want to be when you grow up, John?_

_I'm gonna be a maker._

_A what?_

_A maker. I'm gonna make stuff that's all new!_

_Oh! You mean an inventor!_

John smiled at the memory and flipped through the book. Some of it was simple, stuff he'd figured out on his own with Sara Jane's rather unhelpful help, and other stuff was beyond him. He'd been homeschooled for as long as he could remember, which basically meant Sara taught him what she could and gave him textbooks for anything she didn't know.

_You could go anywhere, do you know that? With your grades, you could get into anything._

_Just because I'm smarter than other kids doesn't fix me._

_Oh John! Don't say that! You don't need to be fixed!_

_Yes I do._

John remembered that conversation went downhill from there. Maybe that was why he liked fixing things. He wanted to be fixed, but if he couldn't do that, then he'd settle for fixing everything else. This included the broken microwave, refrigerator, air conditioning, and anything else he could get his hands on throughout the years.

Sighing, John pushed his melancholy thoughts away. He didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, John wanted to enjoy his new room and forget his problems.

John took a deep breath and reached for the telescope. Here was another one of his favorite pastimes- stargazing. He could chart just about star above his house without even trying.

Studying came easy to him, and he often memorized the star charts from distant lands. He remembered being about ten or so and talking to himself.

_If I'm not an inventor, I'll be an explorer. I'll build a super cool boat and go sail off somewhere no one has ever been before._

John grinned, looking through the telescope. Shame he was inside, the stars painted on the ceiling in no way compared to the real thing.

However, the moment he stuck his eye against the telescope and aimed it at the ceiling, he could see stars- real stars. John withdrew quickly. "What?" he murmured, placing his gaze against the telescope again.

There they were. All the stars were painted when he looked at it normally, but the moment he looked through the telescope, the ceiling transformed into a brilliant night sky like nothing he'd ever seen.

How did that work? John smiled. "That's so cool!" He breathed.

Excitement in his breath, John slip down the railing of the spiral staircase, and landed lightly on the floor.

He crossed the dorm and unzipped his backpack. Taking out his clothes, and other little knickknacks he couldn't live without, John placed the clothes in the empty dresser. He hadn't packed much just in case he decided not to stay. A few rusty gears, he placed on the desk, and a windup dog he constructed, he put next to it. Then John took out of picture of him and Sara Jane laughing as they danced in the rain. They were a vibrant yellow, which John knew was happiness. It was his favorite photo. Smiling gently, John set it carefully on the bedside table so he could see it when he woke up in the morning.

However, as he set the picture down, he froze. _It's almost six._

John frowned. That was weird. He glanced at his self-constructed wristwatch and saw that his thought had been correct.

_How strange… an inner clock? Interesting…_

But he didn't have time to think about that, because if it _was_ almost six, then he needed to run! He wanted to get to the dining room on time.

Snatching up a brochure he picked up on his way to the dorms, John glanced at the map within. Right. If he ran all the way, he could get there on time. He jumped forward, realized his shoelace was untied, tied it, and then rushed out of the room in a whirlwind.

_Into battle._

**_AN: So what do you think of John's room? I had a lot of fun coming up with that:) Anyway, review, favorite, and/or follow. Thanks for reading!_**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dinner with Friends

John only got lost twice… or maybe three times was more realistic. It wasn't his fault the hall went in circles!

That girl Rose was right! It was like the university _wanted_ him to be lost!

He recalled Rose's face as he jogged through the halls, and he wondered if he'd see her again. She was kind, even if she looked untouchable, and she had kept her word, waiting until he came out of Vastra's office earlier that day. She walked him to the boy dorms and then waved goodbye when she couldn't go any farther.

_Bye, John._

_Yeah…Thanks. See ya. _

John was thoroughly out of breath by the time he reached the open doors of the cafeteria. It looked just like every other cafeteria, except that a large fireplace roared in one end of the room, and the other half was a bit like a walk-in freezer. He found out later that this was to accommodate children who required a certain temperature in order to function. Blinking in confusion, John entered the room hesitantly. Glancing around, he attempted the locate Rory among the crowds of unusual children. He found a girl with foldable batwings, a boy with green skin and spikes on the top of his head like a cactus, but no Rory.

Then he heard his name. "JOHN!" a voice called.

And then another, "Hey, John! Over here!"

It was Rory and Rose. They sat at a table toward the center of the room, where the temperature was less drastic. Rose waved him over and with a blush, John's sneakers scooted across the floor toward the full table.

Rory smiled at him. He sat next to a red haired girl who eyed him curiously. Quickly, Rory pulled up a chair for him. "John, _there_ you are."

"I got lost." He answered sheepishly.

Rose laughed, "Even with the map?"

"Yeah… it wasn't cooperating."

The red-head next to Rory laughed, it was a tinkling bell that was pleasant to listen to. "We all get lost at first. I think it's Vastra's personal joke to make the maps all wrong."

"Seriously?" John was incredulous.

Rose nodded, "I'm not sure, but every time I use a map, I get hopelessly turned around." She sat across the circular table, leaning against the wood. Still wearing her gloves, she picked at her hamburger. "Oh, there's food over there." She said, noticing him eyeing her food. She pointed at an assembly line across the room and John nodded.

Getting up, he crossed the room, tossing a 'thanks' over his shoulder. Quickly, John grabbed a hamburger and a can of soda.

He sat back down at the table and inspected the other occupants. There was the red-haired Scott next to Rory, Rose, Rory, and a mischievous boy with black, slicked up hair and a dangerous smile.

Rory glanced at John, who was devouring his hamburger like he'd never had one before. "So John," he coughed, "Let me introduce you." He pointed at each table occupant as he said their name and they waved at him. "That's Martha." He pointed at the dark skinned girl, "This is Amy." He spoke about the girl next to him, "You know me and Rose." He pointed at another red head. She look slightly older and fuller than Amy, with a streak of sass, "This is Donna, and _that_ idiot over there is 'Captain' Jack." Rory waved his hands vaguely, "Everyone? This is John Smith."

Jack flashed John a smile. "Hey."

Amy groaned, her long hair falling into a puddle around her, "Good grief, Jack, give it up for once!"

Frowning, John glanced in confusion at Amy and back at Jack. What'd he miss?

Rory leaned in and whispered into John's ear as Amy and Jack fell into a heated argument. "Jack is cool and all… but he's about as straight as an S, ya know?"

Realization dawned on John. He gulped, understanding Jacks suggestive glance. "Oh."

John was saved from trying to come up with a better reply, for at that moment, someone tapped on a microphone at the front of the room.

Saved by the bell… or a lizard woman from the dawn of time. Whatever.

"Excuse me?" Principle Vastra spoke, her voice loud in the room. When no one responded, she tried again, "_EXCUSE_ ME! _QUIET_!"

Immediately the room hushed.

Vastra smiled, and John could see her white teeth from across the room. "Thank you. Now. I have some announcements to make." She surveyed her students, "Firstly, I can say that everyone is doing exceptionally well so far this year."

Everyone cheered.

Vastra nodded, waiting for the room to quiet again, "_However_," she extended the word. "We need to be _better_ than good if the enemy attacks- We need to be _perfect_. So." Vastra paused, "Everyone will begin extra physical training tomorrow morning."

There was a disgruntled moan from the crowd.

"Some of you may be able to recite the dictionary forwards and backwards- but that will do you no good if you don't know how to defend yourself during an attack." Vastra nodded and sat back down.

_You could always throw the dictionary_… John thought rebelliously, but he kept quiet. What enemy?

"What-" he began, but Rory hushed him.

"There's someone out there," Rory whispered, as the room slowly grew loud once more. "They're targeting people like us, recruiting them, or if they refuse…"

"What then?"

Rory shrugged, "They just disappear- like they never existed."

Shivering, John leaned back in his chair, "That's horrible."

Rose glanced at John and nodded, "Now that I think about it- that's probably the reason Vastra pulled you in the middle of the school year. The enemy is growing stronger. They're getting to students with large signatures before Vastra can."

John shook his head in confusion, "Large signatures?"

"There are machines that can detect kids with anomalies like us." Amy said, "The stronger, _stranger_, your ability, the more likely you will appear on the machine."

John nodded slowly. That made sense.

"Halfway through the semester…" Jack mused, "You must have a pretty large signature for Vastra to pick you up now." He leaned back in his chair, curious. His question was obvious but unspoken.

What makes you so special?

Snorting, John put his hamburger down. "I doubt it. I don't have any impossible… anomalies."

Amy laughed like he was hilarious. "Oh good one, John." Her smile faded when she saw he was serious. "Wait." She frowned, "You're joking, right?"

Biting his lip, John shrugged, "No…" he paused, debating whether to say anything else. "I mean, I'm slightly psychotic but I doubt that counts as an ability."

Rory laughed, "Shoot. We're all slightly psychotic in one way or another."

"Well… I say _slightly_." John cringed inwardly, waiting for the students to give him a suspicious glance.

They didn't.

"Psychosis…" Amy murmured, head in her hands. Her eyes held no malice. "What _is _that exactly?"

John mulled the question over in his mind, wondering how to best explain it. He shrugged, "I see and hear stuff that isn't real."  
>Rory nodded, "I thought that was schizophrenia…"<p>

"Ah…" John ran a hand through his hair, "It is. Psychosis is a general term for a bunch of mental… issues."

Rose was silent for several seconds, but now she spoke, "You'd be surprised how many kids thought they were schizophrenic before coming here. Turns out they just have an anomaly."

John sighed to himself. _Right. With my luck, I'm one of the few who actually are crazy..._

Amy and Jack nodded, "I thought I was delusional for years!" Amy smiled gently. "Turns out my 'visions' were just me peeking into other peoples' forgotten memories."

Intrigued, John leaned forward, "You see memories?" he wanted to get the spotlight off of himself.

"Only ones the person can't remember themselves." Amy answered flippantly, throwing her head over her shoulder and leaning against Rory. "It was very confusing to my aunt when I spouted off information from when she was a little kid…"

John blinked, wondering absently whether Rory and Amy were... together… "That's so cool!" he laughed. Could she see some of his memories? Preferably any from before arriving at Sara Jane's front door? He'd have to ask her sometime…

Flattered by his complement, Amy grinned, "It's not really, but thanks anyway."

Rory scoffed, "Yeah _right_! You are _totally_ cool!"

Rolling her eyes, Amy punched Rory's arm, "Oh shut up, Roranicus."

John noted the inside joke and filed it away. He'd figure out what she meant later.

Dinner was almost over, and most of the students had cleared out. With a yawn, Jack stood up, "I have like, twelve pages of math homework to do, so I'm gonna go."

Rose snorted, "Like you _ever_ do homework!"

Jack ignored her and winked at John, then he winked at Amy, "See ya, John. Hope you figure yourself out.." And with that, Jack vaulted over a chair and jogged off.

They watched him go for a moment before Rose stood up and grabbed her book bag from the back of her chair. "I should probably go too." She smiled at John, which against his will, made his cheeks heat up.

'_How unusual, to not know what he is… Of course, he could be lying.'_

John blinked, shaking away the voice. Really. This was getting ridiculous. _Slightly psychotic… That's an understatement…_

"Alright." He answered, watching Rose walk away, her black jean bag bouncing lightly against her hip with every step.

_Dang she's something..._

Rose turned around the corner and the room seemed to dim just slightly.

"You know she's got a boyfriend, right?" Amy blurted, a mischievous smile in the curve of her lip. "His name's Mickey. Never met him, but Rose says he's some sort of mechanic from the outside."

John started, swiveling around just slightly too fast. "Really? That's cool..." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Apparently he was unsuccessful, because Rory gave him a sympathetic glance, "Don't sweat it, John. Everyone looks at Rose at one point or another."

"I wasn't _looking _at her!"

Snorting, Amy stood up and deposited her tray in a waste basket, "I could see your _eyes_, John." she took two fingers and pointed at her eyes and then at John's. "Right at her."

John huffed indignantly, "But I wasn't looking at her like _that_."

Rory laughed, "Whatever, dude." he stood up and John followed suit. "I'm gonna study in the gardens tonight." he said, pulling a red backpack onto his shoulder, "You can come with me if you like." he threw his food into the waste basket, and yawned. "We can look over your schedule- make sure you know where to go and stuff.."

John nodded, smiling. "Sounds great."

Amy meanwhile, pulled her hair into a ponytail and heaved out a breath of exhaustion. "Physical training was _impossible _today. I think I'll leave you guys to it."

Nodding, Rory locked eyes with her. "See you tomorrow, Amy."

"Yeah." She yawned and wrapped Rory in a warm hug before walking off. "It was nice meeting you, John!"

"You too!" John called back.

And then it was just John and Rory, alone in the dining hall.

"Well then…" Rory murmured, "Shall we?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Abstract Painting

The twilight wind ruffled John's stubbornly stuck up hair and whispered through the trees lining the pathway. Murmuring quietly, stone cherubs spit water into a water basin, and birds hushed their young ones. The sky stretched, blue elastic, over the horizon, and John's feet tapped quietly across the stone path.

In a word, it was peaceful- the most peaceful scene John had ever seen. Massive trees stretched upward, their arms embracing the sky. Their leaves fell silently, littering the ground with gold and red droplets of color.

Amid all this beauty, couples were found kissing, the occasional student studying, and friends murmuring quietly. Rory and John's footsteps fell on the well-beaten path, hands at their sides.

"So…" John murmured, "You and Amy then?"

Rory's head jerked up from his feet, "Hum?" he scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Oh, no. We're- we're just friends…" He said it lightly, like it didn't matter, but longing and disappointment, the color of dust and sand, leaked from his eyes.

Nodding slowly, John waited for Rory to continue.

"I mean- I've known her for forever and she's great- really great."

"But?"

Rory shrugged, "She wants to be friends, and if that makes her happy, then that's what I'll be."

John blinked. That was probably the most selfless thing he'd ever heard.

Smiling sadly, Rory dismissed the subject and pointed at a large tree with lush grass beneath it. "Let's stop here."

"Alright."  
>John lowered himself down into the grass, enjoying the sight of fireflies around him. "It's beautiful here." he murmured.<p>

With a smile, Rory agreed. He patted the tree next to him, "It is, isn't it? I always stop here."

John glanced at him, "Why?"

Rory thought for a moment, leaning against the rough bark of the oak tree. "I like the way the light falls in between the leaves and how the fountain is a sort of white-noise factor. If I climb to the top of the tree, I can see the whole university at once. It's amazing." Rory was silent for a moment, unpacking his backpack, "Course, I've only been up there once- Amy convinced me."

"Not a fan of heights?" John offered, leaning back. He felt the dirt under his hands, cold, dew-covered and soft.

Rory shook his head, almost looking embarrassed, "You could say so."

Nodding in understanding, John took his schedule out of his pocket, "Yeah, me neither." He often had dreams of falling to his death and they terrified him. Then John would wake up, but the fear never went away.

"That your schedule?" Rory asked, pointing at the laminated page.

John nodded, shaking away the depressing thought and handing the paper to Rory.

Rory's eyes ran across it, mild interest on his face. The schedule looked something like this:

**Weekly Schedule:**

**7:00 AM: Math- taught by Adric**

**9:30 AM: Physical Training- taught by Strax and Jenny**

**11:00 AM: Reading/Writing- taught by Wilfred Nobel**

**12:00 AM: Lunch**

**12:45 AM: Specialized Training**

**2:00 PM: History: taught by River Song**

**3:00-5:45 PM: Free Time**

**6:00 PM: Dinner**

**9:30 PM: Bedtime**

Rory gestured John closer and pointed at his first class. "Alright. I've heard about Adric. He's…"

"He's what?"

Shrugging, Rory leaned against the tree, "For one, he looks fifteen, but he's much older than that. He's a math genius, but he doesn't quite understand the finer points of socializing, ya know what I mean?"

John thought about that for a moment, "Yeah. I get that."

And he honestly did. John was a bit of a genius himself, and socializing had never come easy growing up in his isolated state with only Sara to talk to.

Rory pointed at the next class, "Rose said you already met Strax. He's pretty cool, not the smartest potato, but brains aren't needed in his line of work."

"And Jenny?"

"Jenny is the most hardcore maid I have ever met." Rory laughed, "She's got crazy fighting skills." he paused conspiratorially, "there's a rumor going around about her relationship with Vastra being more than just professional, but-" he shrugged, "No one has any evidence."

Nodding, John pointed at a name that caught his eye, "River Song? That's an odd name…"

"Yeah," Rory nodded, "And there's an odd woman to go with it." Smiling, the sandy-haired boy seemed to sink into a memory for a moment, "She can tell the future, so I find it sort of strange that she would dig into the past so intensely."

"Well, if she sees the future, then maybe she's tired of it," John mused, "Like, maybe she's exhausted by all of this indefinite knowledge. It's probably grounding to know something that can't be shifted- changed."

Blinking, Rory sat up. "You should be a psychiatrist, John. You've got a unique view of people."

John laughed, dismissing the subject. "I've been around shrinks a bit." Then he pointed at 'Specialized Training' on the paper. "What's that mean?"

"Oh," Rory waved dismissively, "It depends on your anomaly. Everyone either joins a class with abilities similar to their own or has individual training."

John nodded, wondering how to phrase his next question. He started slowly, "So… what do you do?"

"In Specialized Training?"

"Yeah."

Smiling in embarrassment, Rory chuckled, "I'm learning Latin."

John blinked, "Uh, _why_?" then he realized that might come off as rude. "I mean, Latin is cool and all but-"

"No, no. I get you." Rory smiled, "I'm learning it because occasionally I'll touch people and they start speaking Latin instead of English. Vastra thought it would be a good idea if _I _at least knew what they were saying..."

"Seriously?" John grinned, "How's that even work?"

"I have no idea." Rory laughed, "But the side effect is I turn into a Roman."

Now John was confused, "Wait- _what_?"

"Full on Roman- with a bunch of Romany stuff in my head." he paused with a smirk, pointing at his head, "When I was little I was totally convinced my name was Roranicus Williumus." Rory shrugged, "I've been training, and I don't forget who I am any more, but the desire to wear a battle skirt and rush into war tends to linger."

"Falling stars, Rory!" John collapsed into laughter along with Rory, "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Laughing, Rory couldn't respond for a few seconds, "I _know_!"

The two boys snorted for several minutes and then lay panting, "Dang." John murmured, "I've never laughed that hard in my entire life- I swear."

"Oh shut up." Rory answered without malice. He yawned and sat up again.

Back to business.

"Tomorrow you'll be tested, ya know, to see what your abilities are," he said.

John frowned, "But I don't have any abilities."

"Oh don't give me that," Rory rolled his eyes, "Modesty is always appreciated, but seriously, you expect me to believe Vastra pulled you for no reason?"

John shrugged, "I already told you. I'm schizophrenic, but I don't have any weird abilities."

Rory leaned back and crossed his arms. "I don't believe you."

"It's not like I'm _lying_!" John knew he couldn't tell a lie worth anything. Every emotion could be read in his eyes clearly.

Huffing, Rory got to his feet and paced, "Alright. If you're not lying, then that means you're just unaware."

"I'm pretty sure I would know if-"

"Not necessarily." Rory interrupted. "So that means we've got to figure it out." Suddenly he paused, turned, and sat back down. "Schizophrenia, you said?"

"Yeah."

Nodding, Rory bit his lip, "Tell me about it."

John frowned. What sort of question was that? "Um-"

"Like- what do you see that supposedly isn't there?"

How unusual. Most of the time if someone wanted to know about his hallucinations, it was so they could make them stop, or so they had something to make fun of him with. However, here was this boy who wanted to know what he saw because he wanted to help John personally.

John scratched his neck, considering how much to tell him. Then he let his eyes land on Rory and watch yellow honestly sparkle around him. Rory would do nothing to hurt him- at least, not on purpose.

"Alright." John said, pulling up his knees_. Might as well get this over with. _"I hear voices when no one is speaking." he murmured, "And I see colors."

"Okay…" Rory nodded, "So does everyone else."

John rolled his eyes, "Not just normal colors. It's like... " How did he explain this? He sighed, putting his hands forward. "Think of an abstract painting."

"Alright."

"Good. So in an abstract painting, the people aren't the way they're suppose to be, right?"

"I guess."

"They might have dark, bluish skin or hair. They might be a light color like yellow, or an angry color like red." John paused, "That's how I see people. I walk around and each person is different shade of a color- it's all around them, and each color is…" John honestly had never put what he saw into such detail, and now he found it was much more difficult to do than he thought.

"It's like an emotion?" Rory finished, catching on. The last word rose in pitch and made it a question.

John hesitated, "I suppose." Excuses flew into his mind and he spit them out. "Course, I don't know how that helps me."

_They're just delusions._

Rory snorted, "I don't know… it's certainly _something_."

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Rory handed John back his schedule, "I'd say you were psychic if psychics existed."

"You're telling me you can make people speak Latin, but one one here is psychic?"

Rory shrugged and stood up. "No one functional. It's a rare anomaly as it is, and anyone with the slightest inkling that they might be psychic- truly psychic that is, is absolutely bonkers. So yeah- in that sense, it's impossible."

John thought about that for a moment. Psychic? Him? That was ridiculous, even Rory thought so. Shrugging, John stood up. "We should probably get back."

"Yeah," Rory agreed, "It's almost curfew and you've got a big day tomorrow- well actually, you have a big day everyday from now on." He smiled lightly, enticing a reluctant smirk from John. "I'll see you around, John. Don't worry, you'll figure out where you belong in no time."

John nodded and started walking back to his room, "If you say so, Roranicus." He heard a lingering sigh and then a chuckle from behind him. John smirked.

Sure he might be a delusional, schizophrenic, orphaned inventor with _some _sort of personality disorder, but… now he had a friend.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

John's eyes shot open and he took in a shuddering breath. It was early morning and light murmured through the dusty window of the attic. He must have fallen asleep at his desk last night… Sarah Jane wouldn't like that. She said that he had a bedroom for a reason. Apparently staying up until two in the morning was horrible for his health. John figured his health was already horrible enough so he might as well put his mind to good use before he lost it. His heart was pounding and cold sweat had dried on his brow while he slept. Probably a nightmare, he reasoned. Yawning, John stood up and glanced about the room. His neck hurt from the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in, his cheek resting heavily on top of a mess of gears and cogs. A massive conglomeration of half-finished inventions and little metallic toys littered the room, piled in the corners and the nicest ones parading on shelves. He was proud of his little room in the attic, even if the only person beside himself to ever see it was Sara Jane.

Bending down, he tried to lift up the hatch that would open the trapdoor. Then he could climb down and eat some breakfast before coming back up and finishing some school. He ran his fingers along the crevice of the wood, looking for the hatch, but suddenly he realized that it was gone.

There was no trapdoor out of the little room! Fear quickened his heart and he stood up suddenly. The window. He could climb out the window. Spinning around, John raced for the window. But it was gone. All that was left was a white square on the wall. He cried out, rushing forward and banging his fists against the wood. Dust rose but otherwise nothing happened. He was trapped.

Suddenly the lights in the room dimmed and blinked on again with a blue-grey glow. The temperature lowered so that his breath became smoky in the air. Gulping, John shivered and screwed his eyes shut. Don't look. He would _not _look. Someone breathed on the back of his neck and it prickled. "I will _not _turn around," he shouted, determined. However, the room revolved around him like a merry-go-round and John stumbled into his desk. His lamp fell off the table despite his clumsy attempts to stop it and the room was plunged into darkness once more.

It was worse in the dark. He could feel them circling around him getting closer and closer. Scrambling in terror, John felt a match against his hand. Quickly he swiped the match across the wooden floor and the sight that illuminated before him was far too bright for one match to reveal. There were twelve of them. The shadows circled him, murmuring restlessly, but they did not hurt him

Then one bent down and looked John in the eye. Slowly the darkness faded from his face and John found himself staring into deep eyes of such an undecided blue and green that it seemed that the colors were fighting for dominance over each other. He had a childish smile, a large chin and brown hair that fell carelessly into his eyes. "It's my turn now," he pouted. "I haven't had a turn in _ages_!"

Shivering uncontrollably, John tried to force himself to look away from the young man. But he couldn't. The boy seemed to be the same age as John and he looked kind enough. His fear would have abated, but at that moment, darker, denser shadows joined the twelve and John knew that these ones were _not _nice. His heart raced and he opened his mouth to shout, but the boy shoved his hand over John's mouth. "Don't speak. They'll hear you." The original shadows formed a wall around John as if to protect him and the kind looking shadow faded away into the others.

"Wait!" John cried. His voice rippled the darkness like water and the shadows protecting him melted away with cries of dismay. Then John's match singed his fingers and it was dark.

James jumped to his feet immediately upon awaking. Really awakening. Someone was screaming and it took him a moment to realize that it was he. He shut his mouth and blinked blearily eyes. He was in his pajamas but didn't remember putting them on. He must have been exhausted the night previous. In his new dorm the sun shined through the window brightly. The nightmare was slippery in his memory and as John tried to recall the face of the kind shadow, the one that spoke to him, the dream buried itself in the depths of his mind, irretrievable.

"Dangit," he muttered. He'd had that same dream since he was a small child, but none of the shadows ever spoke to him. They always just stood there, neither good nor bad. Purely protective. He figured that if he were still seeing his therapist, she would have liked to hear about the change in the dream.

But he wasn't seeing a therapist anymore. He was in school. A very odd school, he remembered. Then the events of the previous day came rushing in and he flinched. A very odd school indeed…

Suddenly a blaring, uninteresting sound echoed down the dormitory halls, startling John. That was probably a call for breakfast. Acting quickly, John changed into a t-shirt, jeans and debated about the trench coat. He seriously needed his clothes to arrive in the mail so he'd have more options... Glancing out the window, John watched the trees whip in the wind and decided he had no choice but to wear the darn thing. Shrugging it on, he tied the laces of his converse, snatched his backpack up and opened the door.

Instantly John was swept away by the flood of colors swimming through the hall. His eyes darted from color to color, overwhelmed by the pure quantity of it. He shoved the door shut and screwed his eyes closed. No. He couldn't go out there. There were too many people, too many colors to look at. He couldn't! He couldn't do thi-

"Hey, John. You alright?" It was Rory, the boy who'd been kind to him yesterday. He cracked open Johns door and looked at him with gentle concern.

John coughed, shaking his head. "Yeah," he croaked, "Yeah I'm fine. Breakfast, right?"

Rory nodded, his blue eyes devouring John's room. "Wow!" He breathed, "Your room is absolutely epic." He grinned. "Like, _awesome_. The blue fits you. I'm more of a red and brown sort of guy, I think." An idea lit his eyes, "Hey, you should check my room out sometime."

Nodding, John exited his room cautiously. "That'd be great," he said distractedly. The crowd of boys shoved against them, weaving around each other. Everyone wanted to get to breakfast on time.

John couldn't concentrate. His mind buzzed and every touch sent shivers up his spine. The colors were a blending together and he couldn't see past them. Stopping in his tracks, John covered his eyes with his hands, aware that he looked completely wacko, and preceded to breath in as normal a manner as possible.

"John? JOHN!"

Flinching, John dropped his hands and focused intently on Rory. No one else seemed to notice his strange behavior, mostly because several of them were acting strange themselves. The other colors faded in the background and John let out a little sigh of relief. If he focused on one person, he could usually block out the rest. "Yeah? Rory, I'm fine."

"I didn't even ask you yet!"

"You were going to." John replied with a smirk. He could do this. He could survive. It just took concentration. He could see the question tumbling in a concern and confused color that seeped from Rory's fingertips.

Rory blinked. "_Riiight…_ As I was saying, you're going to have math with Adric first, if I remember right, good luck with that."

"He sounds… interesting."

Rory snorted, "You could say that." They exited the cramped hallway and made their way across the red carpet toward the dining room. The colors were less intense now and John didn't have to focus on Rory as intently as before. "He can be annoying, " Rory shrugged. "He's crazy smart though. If you ask the kid what the five hundred and first digit of Pi is, he'll tell you with the same amount of ease as he does reporting the weather outside."

"That's awesome."

"Yeah, well kinda we all are." Rory paused, smirking. "Except for this one kid, she's got the ability to spontaneously turn into pudding. Not sure what that's good for…"

"Food?"

Rory chuckled, shaking his head, "Naw. It's cranberry flavored."

John stepped into the classroom slowly, clinging mentally to the safety of the empty hallway. Immediately every student swiveled around to stare at him.

_Great. Just what I need._

Taking his hands out of his pockets, John gave them a small, quick wave. The room was not unusual, just a math class. However, everything was perfectly centered. Absolutely and exactly. Every pencil on the teacher's desk was lined up, and every picture was perfectly straight. In the gaze he swept around the room, John instinctively gathered information about the teacher. He was OCD. Shaking his head, John turned to the boy himself.

Adric was everything John had expected and yet totally surprising. He wasn't particularly attractive with his dark hair cut in bowl-like style, his nose turned up, and an odd yellow uniform that didn't fit him quite right. Pale skin that hardly saw the sun and calculating eyes met John's gaze.

He was young. No older than fifteen, but one look into his eyes, and John knew that this boy had seen more and knew more than most people. It didn't stop John from immediately taking a dislike to the haughty way he held himself. Adric's eyes said knew he was smarter than everyone in the room and asked _why_ did he have to teach such idiots?

"New?' he spoke with a sigh. "Vastra needs to stop picking rubbish off the street. It's annoying. This school is over-populated as it is." Shaking his head, he pointed at a desk in the front row to the far left and turned back to a blackboard written out with complex math problems. Most of the kids were giving John sympathetic looks now. "Sit there and try to keep up. " Pausing, he swiveled back around and saw that John still stood by the door. "Well come on."

Rolling his eyes, John gave the perfectionist the biggest grin he could manage and shrugged his backpack off so that it hung in his hands. He glanced around the room and sat down in a desk in the back row to the far right. Shifting the desk just slightly out of its place, John enjoyed the scowl that appeared on Adric's face.

_Definitely OCD._ If this kid was really as cracked up as he seemed, John knew he would notice that he had chosen the farthest mathematically possible seat from the one he'd been instructed to sit in.

What could he say? John figured he had enough problems controlling his own mind. Why add another authority to the mix?

A student with green skin shifted nervously and caught John's eye as if to warn him. However, John ignored the boy who he privately dubbed _cactus kid_.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Adric tapped his foot with impatience "I suppose since you've already interrupted class you might as well tell us your name."

"John. John Smith."

"Fascinating," Adric answered, deadpan. "Nice to meet you, John. Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask all you like," came John's wiry reply.

"Are you deaf?"

Chuckling, John picked up his backpack and began rummaging through it. He knew he wasn't acting like himself. There was a buzzing in his head, impatience he couldn't understand. Usually he was never so bold. He also was aware of what was causing his change in personality, but kept the thought in the back of his mind. If he didn't think about it, he could usually bring himself back.

But not thinking about something is like trying not to think about an elephant.

"Is something funny?" Adric said his lips puckered. He seemed to dislike John just as much as John was beginning to dislike him. Adric had red dust circling his head: anger. Maybe irritation.

'Well," John started, pretending to contemplate the question, "Yes. If I was deaf I wouldn't be able to answer your question."

"Are you blind then?"

"Is there a particular reason you're ask-?"

"Answer the question!"

"No. I'm not blind."

Adric shook his head, like he was trying to indulge a small child. "Then _why_ are you sitting at _that_ desk and not _that_ one?" He pointed at the desk he'd instructed John to sit in.

"You seem like the spitting type," John answered immediately, infuriatingly. "If I wanted a shower I'd go to a bathroom, not a math class."

The class snickered and Adric silenced them with a glare. John knew he'd regret that comment later, but the look that Adric gave him was absolutely worth any punishment. His ears got red, his eyes flashed, and he chewed his lip furiously. The red dust became an angry crimson storm cloud and for a moment the two boys stared at each other, neither willing to back down.

Usually John would have been the one to do so, but not this time. He could feel the stirrings of heat in his chest and he quickly suppressed it. He wasn't going to give in to the numbers. Not this time. He had to concentrate not only on winning this 'fight' with Adric, but also on keeping control of his own head. This time he'd win. Both fights. The numbers weren't real. He was. _Actually, _he told himself, _I'm not even worried about it. _I_ am in control._ He wasn't, but admitting that would just hasten the probability of a change. Sometimes he could stop it if he caught himself early enough. Adric's eyes flicked away and he stomped to the blackboard. John smirked. _Not worried. Not worried._

"Now." Adric pressed his chalk on to the blackboard and it sprung to life. Apparently it was a touch-screen, not a blackboard. "I'm sending you your math pages. Do them to the best of your ability, which is pathetic anyway, and send it back in twenty minutes." He swiped across the board toward the class and the students' desks beeped positively. John took down his backpack so that he could see the touch-screen imbedded in the desk_._

_Impressive…_ The assignment blinked in front of him and in the background, his mind began translating the math theorems into something he could understand and the heat in his chest faded. He smiled.

"Sorry, there's is no time to catch you up, John." Adric didn't sound sorry at all. "The timer starts… now."

"So I heard you really dished it out to Adric." Rory spoke through his food. He bit into the last bit of his sub as they walked away from lunch.

"Yeah," John answered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. News sure did travel fast… "I kind of got carried away."  
>"Don't be sorry," Rory answered, licking his fingers. "The guy deserves it. You should see all the crap he puts people through."<p>

"I can imagine…" Honestly, John was just glad he'd managed to suppress the more rebellious part of him before he did something truly stupid. He figured it was 8.5, 11, or maybe 6 attempting to get through. All of them seemed to have issues with authority. Not taking his usual medication was taking its toll. He'd forgotten to do so the night before, and he hadn't had so many issues with his other-selves in years.

"So," Rory continued, holding open the door. They exited the building and braved the harsh wind. "How did physical training go?"

John cringed.

_"__What is __**that**__, girl? I said __**pushups**__ not__** fish-flopping**__!"_

"_This _**is**_ a push up!"_

_"__That is _**hopeless**_! Run laps, girl!"_

John blinked away the memory. "It was… interesting."

"So basically you sucked."

"You know," John replied with a laugh, "That sums it up nicely."

Rory's face cracked into a smile and he scratched the back of his neck. "My first class was like that too."

"But I thought you have awesome Roman fighting skills."

"Well," Rory spoke, "I do. But not all the time. Mostly I'm just normal."

John digested that information. It had to be strange being able to do something one day and then not knowing how you did it the next… "Does it get easier?" he asked.

"What? Being a roman or gym class?"

"…Gym class."

"Oh," Rory shook his head, "Not really. Unless you have abilities that are physically related. But if it's just a brain thing or whatever, then no. It basically sucks."

"Fantastic." John shook his head and shivered in the cold. He nipped the word as it left his lips. 9 liked that word. He used it constantly when he whispered in John's mind. Crap. He really needed to get back to his room so he could take his medication. He'd forgotten the night before and hadn't heard so much from his other selves in years.

They only had a bit farther to walk before they reached the main building, where John was going to meet Vastra for 'Specialized Training'.

"So what are you doing for your specialized course?" Rory asked as they hurried up the steps.

The wind whipped around them and tried to steal John's coat. "I don't know," John answered, "Probably spend an awkward hour with Vastra."

Shivering, they tumbled into the building. Warmth fanned their faces and John relaxed, exhaling breathily.

"It won't be like that forever. It's just until you can figure out what your abilities are," Rory spoke, "Tell me about it when you're finished, okay?" He grinned and John nodded.

Thumbs up. "Sure thing, Rory."

Waving, Rory turned and the new friends split paths. Rory had specialized training with a different teacher. John knew that whatever came to pass in the hour, he wasn't going to tell Rory about all of it. Not yet.

He walked through the halls alone, eyes on the floor. 9 was laughing at his 'misfortune' and John pointedly ignored him. His shoes scrapped the floor dully and he remembered Sarah Jane telling him how annoying the habit was.

_"__It makes you look reluctant, John. If you want to look impressive pick up your feet."_

Sarah Jane was never reluctant. She threw herself into everything with the same amount of zeal and determination. Sometimes he wished he had her enthusiasm…

John walked up to the door and stared at it wordlessly. Whatever Vastra had to say, he was resolved not to listen. He was sick and unless she could help him, he didn't want to talk. If what she had said yesterday was telling of her thoughts, she believed that his insanity was a _gift_. How ridiculous was that? Even if it was, John didn't want to learn how to use it. He wanted it out.

The second time he entered Vastra's office was no easier than the first time. He was still nervous as heck and his other selves were murmuring in voices he couldn't quite hear. _My medication. Should have taken my medication… _Cracking open the door, he shimmied in and stood awkwardly in front of it. The lizard wasn't sitting at her desk like she was this time. She was dressed in a black, skin-tight suit and wrote on a piece of paper as she sat cross-legged on the floor. An off-white calm exhaled from her nose.

John wondered if he could just sneak away without her noticing.

"Come in, John."

Too late.

"H-hi."

"Hi yourself," she answered while attempting to smile pleasantly but her sharp teeth ruined the pleasant affect of her smile. She patted the ground next to her. "Please, sit."

Slowly, John edged forward. He sat down at a comfortable distance away from the principle. Crossing his long legs, he counted his fingers absently as he waited for her to speak. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine-

"John?"

His stomach was hurting and his chest hot. If he didn't take his medication soon…

"Why am I here?" he asked even though he already knew the answer. 9 was muttering restlessly, distracting him.

"Please be more precise, John." Vastra murmured. A teapot sat next to her on a china plate and she poured him a steaming cup. "Here, as in, this room? This school? This planet?"

Irritation sparked in his chest. He picked up the cup of tea. It was mint. He set it down again quickly when he realized his hand was shaking.

_Did she notice?_ John thought.

_I don't think so,_ 9 replied. He had a heavy northern accent. John shushed him.

"I explained why you're at this school." Vastra took a slow sip of her own tea. "Even though you don't believe my explanation. I'm not sure why you're on this planet…"

"I meant in this room," he muttered, deadpan. The irritation was slowly fanning into anger. She was playing with him. Teasing him. It was infuriating.

Vastra smiled. "Thank you. You are here so that you can learn to used whatever is going on in your head for your benefit."

John gave her an emotionless look. Jeeze. Why was he even bothering? Did she realize how ridiculous that sounded? "How could they possibly _benefit_ me?" he croaked, "I can hardly see sometimes because of all the colors that _no one else_ sees and that's not even the worst of it! I have to constantly think about keeping my sanity so that I don't go bananas and forget what I've been doing for the last few hours!"

Vastra was silent for a moment, digesting his words. "That may be how you feel now, John. But if you would let me help you, you could unlock your full potential."

John just stared at her, wordless. This was a waste of time. He didn't want to unlock his blooming potential. He wanted to stop hearing voices in his head.

"Look," he said pointedly. "Can you fix me?" The anger in his chest shifted into a physical heat, something that should worry him, but John was too irritated to notice_. Need my medication…_

Vastra seemed to contemplate her answer for a moment. "No." She smiled. "I cannot."

His eyes rolling to the ceiling, John huffed. "_Fantastic_! Then _what_ am I doing here!"

"You are here to unlock-"

"_I don't want to unlock my stupid potential_!" he cried, his voice taking on a distinctive Northern tinge. Violently he coughed. Then he snapped his mouth shut. He froze. Mentally and physically. _Gone to far._ He needed to backtrack. Before it was too late. He needed to get back to his room.

Watching him, Vastra was curious and contemplative. "John-"

"Please don't say anything." He snapped his eyes shut. _Need my medication._ His chest was burning hot but after a moment of concentration it faded. 9 gave him a glare before retreating.

"John?" Vastra's voice was quiet, gentle. "John, you don't need to be afraid. Nothing you share with me will ever go past these walls unless you want them too. Alright?"

Opening his eyes, John stared at her in complete silence for several seconds. His mind hardened in spite and he scowled. Why would she do that? Why would she provoke him? "You did that on purpose," he growled.

Guilt dribbled on the floor underneath Vastra and she gulped. "Using your ability will make it easier. Less painful."

John snorted and stood quickly. No. He wasn't going to do this. "They're not an ability, Principle Vastra. They are a curse that _you_ won't rid me of." He turned away and walked toward the door.

"John, don't lea-!"

"And if you're interested," he spat, furious now. How dare she manipulate him! "That was 9 who just spoke."

**_AN: Please review! I Love to hear from you! Sorry about the wait!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: in next chapter all the danger starts!**

**Woohoo! Please REVIEW!**

Chapter Seven

John burst into his dorm, gasping. His stomach flipped painfully and his head pounded. "Gotta stop them," he muttered.

Frantic, he stumbled across the floor and dove into his drawer. Where was it? His movements felt muted and soon he knew he wouldn't feel anything at all. "What did I do with it!" he cried out.

Someone snickered. Probably 11. _Hid it,_ 11 whispered. _Last night._

Crap. That was bad, very, very not good. Although, it explained why John didn't remember getting into his Pyjamas the night before. It seemed 11 managed to briefly get ahold of John. The fact that 11 had managed to control his mind was terrifying enough to John, but NOW he'd hid his medication! "Tell me where!" John shouted at his alter.

No answer.

Typical.

Rolling his eyes, John quickly began looking.

In the bed?

No.

Closet?

No.

John couldn't see straight. " Show me where you put it!"

_Like heck_, 11 muttered.

"Why are you DOING this!" John cried, slumping down on the floor. He didn't want to be here, at this school anymore. It was a bad idea. "Call Sara Jane," he muttered, feeling his pockets for a cell phone. The world jerked for a second and then came into focus. Any second now John felt he would lose himself.

The cell slid from his pocket into his lap and he opened it with shaking fingers. Dead.

Water damage from the fountain.

He totally forgot.

"Doggonit!" John shouted and threw it across the room. It smacked the wall and exploded into tiny pieces.

John froze. Blinked at it. How the heck did he do that? He'd expected a nice thump when it hit the wall, not blooming demolition.

Suddenly 11 grabbed at him, making him stand. Y_ou idiot!_ He shouted in his head, I'm trying to help you!

"I do not want any sort of help that you think you can -"

"Just shut up and let me talk!"

Now that was disturbing.

John slapped his hand over his mouth, but it did little good. They didn't often use his mouth, but when they did it resulted in a chaotic babbling of words as his alters argued and jerked him back and forth.

"You've been suffocating me for- " 11 started.

"This is my life! Go away!"

"It's my life just as well as yours!"

Back and forth and back and forth and -

"JOHN!"

_Who was that?_

It wasn't either of them. 11 swung John around and they faced the door, panting.

Standing in the doorway, equally winded, was Rory Williams. He ran all the way from his class to find him. John groaned. "What are you doing here?!"

"Don't be rude, John," 11 said.

Rory just blinked. "Vastra told me to find you..."

John rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "That lizard doesn't give up!"

"Brilliant woman!" 11 proclaimed.

"No, shut up!" John locked eyes with Rory for an instant.

"Am I... interrupting something?" Rory asked, eyes wide and annoyingly fascinated.

"Yes-"

"Naw!" 11 countered.

"Rory, you should leave," John said, finally getting a word in.

But Rory was frozen. "That is really, really weird."

"I agree," John cried falling backwards onto his bed and covering his eyes. "We will analyze it later, I'm sure. Now please go away before I do something stupid."

Suddenly 11 jumped to his feet. "Excuse me, I'm not the stupid one!"

"Really?" John answered, "You're gonna argue that. Right now."

"You bet."

He was so absorbed in his argument that he didn't notice Rory stepping further and further into the room. Finally, John whipped around and stumbled into him.

"Ah! Rory!" 11 said with a grin, wrapping his arm suddenly around Rory. "Perfect! Distract him for a tic, will you?"

Rory steadied him and John jerked away.

"Distract who?" Rory asked.

"He means me!" John answered, "Don't let him do it! Please Rory "

"Oh, that's rubbish!" 11 interrupted, "He's so oblivious! We're trying to help! Why doesn't he understand how it works?!"

John interjected, eyes wide. "How WHAT works?!"

Rory wasn't sure what to do. His new friend raced around the room like he was mad, two totally separate sounding voices coming out of his mouth. The first was John's, who sounded frantic, maybe even a bit afraid, and the second was absolutely giddy with excitement.

"I cannot BELIEVE him!" 11 shouted, "What does it take to get it through your head!" Rory frowned. This had to be the most confusing conversation he'd ever witnessed.

"Who's... head?"

"His head!" 11 answered and he pointed at John's forehead. "Oh, forget it. He'll figure it out eventually."

Suddenly John stilled. He closed his eyes for a long moment and exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes they burned gold for just an instant before fading back to normal brown. His body defeated in relief. It was over. 11 relented.

"That," John spoke slowly, "is gonna give me a heck of a headache..."

The room was completely silent for several seconds. Then John's gaze climbed up Rory and he gave him a sheepish half-smile. Rory just stood there, mouth open. "Yeah, uh " John started, scratching his neck awkwardly, "I didn't tell you about that part of my... weirdness, did I?"

Rory blinked. "Dude." He stepped up to him and looked his new friend up and down. "That was..."

"Was what?"

"... Awesome! I mean, it was really weird and kinda confusing, but still- AWESOME."

Surprise flowed inside John and he cocked his head at Rory. Did he just hear him right? The Roman stood still, a crooked smile lodged in his mouth.

John coughed, slightly embarrassed. Now that the ordeal was over, he was exhausted. Holding his alters back took considerable mental effort. "That's not what people usually say."

"What do people usually say?"

"... Get a shrink."

Snorting, Rory shook his head slowly. "What just happened?"

"Yeah..." John sat down slowly on the metallic floor and scrubbed his face with his hands. Rory followed suit and sat down across from him. How to explain... "I'm twelve." John started.

"What? Really?" Rory replied, "I'd say you were at least fifteen "

"No," John interrupted. "Blimey, no. I mean, I'm twelve. Like, I'm twelve people. All at once. Crammed up in one head."

Rory was confused. John saw the grey soup puddle around him. "How... how does that work?"

"If I knew I'd tell you."

"Right." He sniffed. "So when you were arguing with yourself...?"

"That was 11. He's a pest, believe me."

"Wait, 11?"

"They don't have names. Just a number. He's number 11"

Rory wrinkled his nose. "That must be depressing. Not having a name..."

Wait a sec. Was Rory really sympathizing with THEM? "It's not like they're real people," John spoke quickly, "I'm just... messed up."

"Right." Rory frowned and his eyebrows drew together. "You, uh, _he_ asked me to distract you... why?"

John shivered. "He wanted me to drop my barriers so he could take full control."

"You have mental barriers."

"... Yeah."

"Cool." Rory nodded, "So what happens if he has full control."

"I don't know."

"You don't know." Rory blinked. "How do you NOT know?"

Right. So he was giving Rory everything then. "I don't remember anything." John's headache started to kick in at this point and he cringed. "I don't know what happens. I just wake up some time later with a killer headache. A bit like this one, actually, but worse..."

Their conversation probably would have continued for quite a while longer, but suddenly there was a crash from outside John's window and both boys started in surprize.

"What was that?"

"I dunno."

John leapt to his feet and raced to the window. "That sounded like -"

" Some sort of explosion," Rory finished, peering over John's shoulder. "Maybe it was one of the kids?"

"Maybe..." Hopefully. But John couldn't stop the steady drips of dread from quivering his fingers. Something bad was about to happen. He could feel it. The explosion sounded like it came from the other side of the school, which was why everything looked normal outside his window. He need to get closer. "Come on." John waved Rory forward, dashing away from the window and out the door.

Slowly, Rory followed John. He stopped at the doorway into the hall. "Um, John?"

"What?"

"Shouldn't we be heading AWAY from the scary exploding sound thing?"

John blinked. Shrugged. "Probably." Continued down the hall. Toward the explosion. He glanced back at Rory and gave him half a smile. John's head pounded and he was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep so near after an episode like that. He hadn't gotten that close to changing since he was twelve! 11 was too close and he might take over in John's sleep.

Besides, a little distraction always did John good.

"You coming, Rory?"

For a mom

ent Rory hesitated. Logic told him that he'd seen enough weirdness for one day, and THAT'S coming from a Roman; However, after a moment Rory's eyes flew to the ceiling and he exhaled breathily. "Course I'm coming."

And off they went.

**_AN: PLEASE REVIEW:))) ..._**


	8. Chapter 8

**_AN: For clarification, John Smith at the moment is a kinda toned-down version of the 10th Doctor who for my purposes is the sort of 'dominate' alter. He'll get a bit wacky-er and more 10th Doctor-ish later in the story when he's less convinced he is bonkers:) Anyway, enjoy!_**

Chapter Eight

A conglomeration of people shoved their way through the hallways and John had to push forward forcefully. Only snippets of conversation hit his ears amid the buzz.

"Was that an _explosion_?!"

"Is the basement safe?"

"What _are _those things!"

Pulling the colors of fear swirling around him into the back of his mind, John grabbed Rory's wrist so he wouldn't lose him in the crowd.

"John?" Rory asked worriedly, stumbled close at his heels. "I really, _really _think this is a bad-"

Suddenly a flash of red burst from the crowd and her eyes latched on the two boys. "Rory?" she spoke as her eyes bounced back and forth between John and her friend. Amy was her name, if John remembered correctly. "John? What are you two doing? We're supposed to get into the basement. Something's happened."

Nodding rapidly John continued pulled Rory forward, much to the smaller boy's disgruntlement. "We're going to see what it is," John explained flippantly.

"Is it an attack?" Rory questioned Amy, wide eyed. "Can that happen?"

Amy shrugged. "I dunno," She turned her attention to John. "_You're_ gonna find out what happened? Why?"

Honestly? He needed a serious distraction after that near episode with 11. However, John didn't say that. Instead he bit his lip and gestured vaguely ahead. "Why not?"

It wouldn't have surprised him if Amy had raised an eyebrow and took off toward the basement, towing Rory behind her. Instead she contemplated his words and after a moment she grinned. "Alright. I'm coming with."

Surprised, John assessed her quickly. Huh. Perhaps she was more hardy than he'd originally perceived…

Sighing, Rory let John tug him forward. "Seriously, Amy. I was hoping you would convince him to stop."

Amy let out a laugh, flipped her hair back and flashed him a grin. "Aw, don't be boring, Rory. Let's go see what's happening, and hey, maybe we can help."

They sped through the halls, getting closer and closer to the source of the explosion. Soon the halls grew quiet and empty and the evening sun outside cast long shadows across the carpet.

"What do you think it is?" Rory whispered after a while.

The trio felt the need to keep their voices low. "No idea," John answered. He jogged to the hall ahead of them and skidded to a stop. Instantly he felt 11's curiosity well up inside him. "Woah... Guys?"

"What?" Amy came up behind him and finally Rory followed. All together, they stared in amazement.

The hall was lined from floor to ceiling with glass windows, or rather, what _had been_ glass windows. Now all that was left were the shattered remains scattered across the floor, jagged and massive. Frigid wind pushed through the skeleton of the wall and John shivered.

Slowly he stepped into the hall, careful not to step on the glass. "What sort of thing could do this?" he murmured. An explosion, surely. However, as he took a closer look he saw then it wasn't just the windows that were broken. Chandeliers on the ceiling had shattered and every mirror was cracked. Strangely everything that _wasn't _made of glass was left undisturbed.

"Weird," Rory said, stepping in after John. "Maybe it was one of the students?"

John was about to nod his agreement, but at that moment the sound of stomping feet filled their ears.

"ACQUIRE THE TARGET!"

Crap.

Panic filling him, John pushed Amy and Rory back. "Hide!" he whisper-shouted. Frantically the trio searched, but it was too late. Strange, metal-clad men rounded the corner. They had odd, tear-drop shaped eyes and handles on either side of their metal helmets.

"META'S DETECTED!" the nearest one shouted mechanically

"RUN!" John cried, taking off in the opposite direction. His coat flying like a flag behind him, he raced through the halls, only glancing back to make sure Rory and Amy were still keeping up. They were.

"I _told _you this was a bad idea!" Rory cried, his voice cracking.

"Think positively!" John called over his shoulder. "Now we know what caused the explosion!"

"They're gonna kill us!"

"_Positivity_!"

John was terrified. The lifeless way the men held themselves, the evil gleam in their back eyes, it made him shiver. He had no doubt that the men, if men they were, would kill them without a second thought.

So why was he grinning? Why was he thrilled by the pumping of his heart, the adrenaline searing his veins. Weirdly enough, running as fast as possible from terrifying monsters felt like something natural; like he'd just found the missing piece of a puzzle.

Why didn't this happen more often?!  
>Instantly John banished the thought from his mind. It just wasn't the sort of thing one said! They rounded a corner, but instead of a pleasantly empty hallway, they were met with another metal-man. The man raised his arm, which had a firearm of some sort attached to it. "TARGET ACQUIRED! DETAIN!"<p>

Backpedaling rapidly, John fell into Rory and they stumbled away. However, Amy was frozen, staring at the barrel of the guns pointed at her and it only took a moment for John to realized what had happened. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!

Instantly he whirled around, back toward Amy.

"DELETE!" Their guns fired but John threw himself on top of her, knocking the slim girl to the ground. Distantly, John felt heat sear his right arm but fear demanded he ignore it. Pulling Amy to her feet, John grabbed her hand and they ran. It didn't take long to catch up with Rory, who gave them a relieved look before his feet pounded across the floor again.

They rounded a corner and quickly John jerked open a door at random. Fumbling, they tumbled inside and shoved the door shut. And just in time too. Immediately after they were tucked away, the sound of running feet and voices jumbled past them. Amid the mechanical noise, a clear note sung out.

"Hey metal-butts! Over here!" There was a flash and a thump as one of the metal men apparently met the carpeted floor. "Ha! Idiots."

Did he hear that right? John wasn't sure. "Was that… Rose?" he whispered.

"She's with the Elite," Rory murmured in answer.

Amy nodded. "The Elite are metas chosen to defend us if there's an attack." There was a pause and then timidly, she placed a hand on John's arm. "Thanks,"

"No problem."

John didn't expand on his words because at that moment he became very aware of hot liquid dripping down his arm. Amy's hand left his, never realizing. He nodded slowly and his adrenaline dripped away. Pain seared him and John stifled a groan. Maybe if he didn't acknowledge it the numbers wouldn't realize he was hurt. However, his heart still thumped just as fast as it was when he ran. He could feel his alters churning around restlessly. It was too late; he knew it was, not so soon after his encounter with 11. He couldn't think about the pain, he couldn't! Eyes wide, John backed away from the door and soon met a wall. They appeared to be in a dark storage room of some sort…

"You've never liked dark rooms, John."

John slapped his hand over his mouth. 11. Of course it was him to come to the 'rescue' "Crap," he muttered, "Go away. Not now."

"Who're you talking to?" Amy asked, confused. She squinted at him in the low light.

"Himself," Rory replied. He, on the other hand, sounded worried. "You alright, John?"

"He most definitely is not!" "I'm fine." "Shut up, you idiot!"

"Right." Rory frowned. "Could you specify?"

Shivering, John back as far away from his friends as he could. The heat from the wound on his shoulder had spread to his chest and tingled his fingers. "I _might _have been shot at," he ground out.

"Yeah... We all were."

"No," John shook his head. His friends' voices murmured in and out of focus. "I mean, they didn't miss."

The effect was instant. Amy gasped and jumped forward. Rory jumped toward him as well. "Why didn't you say something?" Amy whisper-shouted, "You're hurt? Where? Show me!"

Instead of complying, John forced them back with a hand and screwed his eyes shut. "You don't understand. You've got to get away from me. Now." Another wave of heat burned his senses and he gasped in pain. Unfortunately his friends thought it was for a different reason. He was injured and the alters would take advantage of that. They always did.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Amy argued, "let me see!"

"Rory!" John protested, desperate. They couldn't be so close when it happened. Sara Jane was this close once.

She said she spent a week in hospital.

He didn't know how it worked, he didn't know what happened, he didn't know _anything_! "You have to get back!" John forced his eyes open and found he could see in the darkness. Rory's blue eye were wide with fear and only widened further when he met John's gaze. "Please," John croaked.

His resolve hardening, Rory nodded sharped and tugged Amy away from John. They sunk down behind a shelf so that they were curled up on the ground opposite John.

Satisfied that they would be alright, John screwed his eyes shut and gulped fearfully.

This was it. He let go of his last reserve. The world exploded and went black.

John Smith knew no more.

**_AN: PLEASE REVIEW if you enjoyed this chapter:) Another cliff hanger, I know. Sorry about that, I just cant resist. Luck for you lot I have most of the next chapter written so you should see it pretty quick:) Anyway, thanks for reading. PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**AN: Awesome-person points to whoever finds the Aladdin reference near the beginning of this chapter:)**_

Chapter 9

Amy had only met John once before. He seemed nice enough to her, but she couldn't say she really considered him a _friend_. Not yet anyway.

But that didn't hinder her fear and sympathy when she saw absolute terror light up John's eyes. And by light up, she meant _literally_. The boy's eyes glowed gold and bathed the room in a low, golden light that cast deep shadows across their faces.

"Please," he'd croaked, pleading Rory.

She didn't want to leave him. She didn't understand. What terrified him so much that he'd look at her like that? But then Rory had his arms around her, forcing her backwards, behind him.

"Rory? What're you doing?!" She protested, wriggling.

Rory spun her toward him and looked her in the eyes. "He said to get away, so I'm gonna do that."

Amy hesitated, but then relented. Whatever reason John had, it was a good one. Quickly they crouched down behind a metal shelf and some boxes. Amy's fingers trailed on the concrete and she grabbed Rory's hand reflexively. Rory jolted in surprise but Amy didn't notice.

Fear quickening her heart, she peered between the boxes at John. He was shivering violently and slowly he let his arms fall to his sides. For a moment the light in his eyes faded.

There was a beat of complete silence.

Was it over?

What John okay?

But in that moment light pulsed from every pore of his body, and he exploded... literally.

A wave of white hot energy crackled through the air, throwing Amy and Rory back as it widened its circumference, John at the center. The shelf tottered and fell against the wall so that it created a sort of tent over Amy. Amy screamed and clung to Rory as a whirlwind overtook the storage closet.

Then all at once, it was over.

They heard John stumble and fall and then a crash as a shelf tottered over him. Darkness.

Everyone was frozen. Rory was the first to move and suddenly Amy's heart started again. She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Gotta find a light switch," Rory muttered, clambering out from behind the shelf and pulling Amy out behind him. Quickly Rory made his way to the door, stumbling over broken boxes and fallen shelves. Finally his hand found the switch. In comparison to the blinding light they'd seen a moment before, the fluorescent bulbs were like moonlight on a stormy night, but they did the job.

Amy blinked away the lingering afterimage of John's… _explosion_ and hurried toward the boy. "John?" she whisper-shouted, anxious, "John? Are you alright?"

A shelf had fallen over John, much like it fell over Amy and Rory and Amy rushed up to it, expecting to hear John's voice from under the debris.

Instead she heard something entirely unexpected.

"_Rassilon_! Five years tucked up in the subconscious gives you _such _a crick in the neck..."

Amy blinked.

What.

Following the words, a hand poked out from behind the shelf and was followed by the shaggy form of a boy.

But it wasn't John. It most definitely was _not_. He about John's age, perhaps a bit younger, but not by much. Mousy brown hair flopped into green-blue eyes and he flashed Amy a wide, childish grin. Pointing at her, he clambered the rest of the way out from behind the shelf and giggled. "Oh! You're Amy! It's so different seeing you though my own eyes!"

Amy's jaw dropped in unison with Rory's. The boy stumbled toward Rory and pointed at him now. "Ha! And you're Rory! The roman, am I right? Oh that's brilliant!"

Rory leaned away eyebrows drawing together. "Who the heck are you?" he asked.

The boy paused, considering. "That _does _seem to be the question. Tell you what, you find out, and you can tell me."

He grinned and spun in circle, but his smile faded when he saw the destruction around him. "Dear me," he squeaked, "Whoops. It's not usually like this, I promise. He just suppressed me for so long, ya know? Energy build up and all…" He trailed off when he realized Rory and Amy weren't tracking with him.

Rory still held a suspicious look. "What did you do with John? Is he hurt? Where-?"

"Oh please," The boy rolled his eyes. "You ought to thank me. The idiot is fine, better than fine. He's healed. He got shot. Had to save him. Unfortunately those sort of wounds aren't tolerated. 1 would have a _fit _if someone left John unattended. So basically, the perfect excuse to finally get out!" The boy grinned and did a sort of hop-skip in excitement. "But if you want to be technical, then I suppose _I'm_ John."

The boy cocked his head and waited until understanding finally dawned on Rory. Amy watched it light up his eyes. He took a step back and looked the boy up and down. "Oh my gosh," he breathed, "You're one of the- the _numbers_! His _alters_ have _physical forms_!" Rory shook his head in disbelief and the boy gave him a clumsy bow.

"Thank you, Rory. Brilliant deduction, that."

Amy was still confused, utterly and completely. Alters? Physical forms? "Right," she said slowly, "Rory, what on Earth is happening? Where's John? What happened?"

Rory turned toward Amy and gave her a look somewhere between excitement, shock, and awe. He gestured at the boy. "That's John. Right there."

The boy waved.

Amy's eyes flicked back and forth. "No. He's not. John looks nothing like-"

"Nothing like me," the boy interrupted. He nodded rapidly. "_he_, I mean, _I…_ or rather, _we_. Blimey, pronouns… Anyway, we told Rory about it earlier. I've got twelve personalities, including John. He's number 10"

"Wait," Rory interjected, "John is a number?"

"Yup."

Twelve personalities… Amy shook her head. That made only the _slightest_ sense. "And you're one of these… other personalities?"

The boy nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He grinned at Rory. "She's smart, Rory."

Rory didn't seem to hear. He was too busy staring. "Personalities with a physical form," he murmured, "How does that even work?"

"I dunno," the boy responded with a shrug, "How do you turn Roman?"

Touche.

Without warning, the boy clambered through the mess toward the door. He had long, lanky limbs that he didn't seem to know what quite to do with. "Come along! Things to do, stuff to see, life to live! I haven't got long as it is."

"Wait!" Rory protested, snapping out of his thoughts. He came after him and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can't go out there. There's these men and..."

For a long moment the boy just stared at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Rory, if the Cybermen were going to find us, they would have already."

Cybermen, Rory thought, was that what the metal men were? How did the boy know? Slowly Rory released him. John's warnings echoed in his mind. Could this boy really be evil like John was so convinced that he was?

Rory wasn't sure. Biting his lip, he gestured to the door. "Fine, but we need to take you to Vastra."

Shrugging noncommittally, the boy cracked open the door and peeked out. "The lizard, right?" He opened the door wider. It appeared empty and the sun had finally set outside. Slowly, the trio crept out of the closet and closed the door behind them. All that remained of whatever battle there was in the hall was a small, man-shaped pile of dust. Rose's work, no doubt.

" Sorry," the boy muttered to no one in particular. "That was probably racist, calling someone a lizard. I mean, I know _I_ wouldn't like being called an ape… or a lizard, for that matter. All dry and scaly and rubbish..." He trailed off as they began to tip-toe down the hallway. Hopefully they could get outside. Vastra would no doubt be there, in the heat of the action, which was likely where the explosion happened.

After a moment the boy continued his conversation with no one. "Weird though. It's not racist to call a human a human if you are also human. What's with that, anyway? You can call yourself any name you like, but someone _else _says it and _bam_, totally offended…"

"Would you keep it down?" Rory interjected, fearful. The metal-men, or Cybermen, as the boy had called them, could be anywhere.

"Oh." the boy turned to look at him and slowed down a bit so that they all walked shoulder to shoulder. "Yeah, sorry."

Rory wondered if all of John's alters were this chatty. No wonder he couldn't concentrate... Glancing nervously at Amy, Rory assessed her quickly. She seemed to be taking this development in stride but she made no attempt to add to the conversation. Every so often she shot Rory a confused look and he shrugged.

Curious, Rory locked eyes with the boy as they rounded a corner. The hall was empty, thankfully. "So are you a _number_?" he asked slowly, the words feeling odd in his mouth. "Which one?"

The boy flinched but quickly hid his discomfort with a smile.

Immediately Rory saw the boy's failed attempt and felt guilty. "I mean, if you don't mind telling me."

The boy waved away his concerns. "It's fine. I'm 11." He pursed his lips. "You met me earlier, sort of…"

It was now that Amy finally spoke up. Her eyebrows furrowed. "But you have a name, don't you?"

11 shrugged. "Naw, who needs names anyway. A number sums me up."

Again Rory didn't miss the streak of bitterness in 11's manner, but he didn't address it. "Why didn't John, or, I mean, _you_, or _him_, or whatever, say that… _this_ happens." He gestured vaguely at 11, who scratched his neck awkwardly.

"By _this_, you mean actually having a physical form? He didn't tell you because he doesn't know. He told you that earlier, I believe."

Rory nodded, remembering their earlier conversation. "I asked him how that's possible and he said he didn't know..."

A bit of sadness overcame 11's features and he shrugged. "I remember. I was there."

"So… do _you _know why he doesn't know?"

They reached the front room now and their feet slapped against the tiles and down the elegant staircase. Lamps lit the room and twilight reigned on the steps outside the school. Reluctantly 11 opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment a voice called out from outside.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice non-condensing.

Rose Tyler.

Jumping in surprise Rory and Amy hurried down the rest of the stairs. However, 11 stilled on the last few steps and stared at her, silent.

Rose's hair was pulled into a loose braid and she held her gloves loosely in her hand. "Never mind that. Do you guys know what happened?" Shaking her head tiredly, she stepped into the building and pulled on her gloves. "One minute we were fighting and the next there was this… energy, or something. I think it sort of over-powered them cause the next we knew, they were flipping out and teleported away.

Rory blinked. "The Cybermen?"

Instantly her eyes zeroed in on Rory. There was a frightening intensity in her brown orbs. "How do you know that?"

Startled by the sudden mood change, Rory gestured at 11. "He's the one who said it,"

Immediately her attention turned to 11. "Who are you?"

11 wasn't listening. His eyes were glazed as he spoke to no one in particular. "I suppose an energy build up to that degree would cause a power over-load… rather fortunate for us…"

"S'cuse me," Rose interrupted, her voice sharp. "I asked you a question."

11 took his time pulling his attention to the blonde and when he finally did, he grinned. "Rose Tyler. Hello!" He waved but Rose frowned.

"What do you know about Cybermen?" she said, "Who told you?"

11 shrugged and bounced on his heels. "Nobody. I'm a good guesser."

"Don't be cheeky." Quickly she glanced at Rory and Amy, who'd been attempting to get a word in. "Do you know him?"

"Aw, how rude," 11 interjected, effectively keeping Rory from answering. "I'm quite certain we met yesterday."

Rose's eyebrows furrowed and she looked 11 up and down. Shaking her head, Rose turned to Rory again. "Do you know him?" she repeated.

Rory nodded, exchanging a glance with Amy. "Well… yes and no. It's a bit-"

"-complicated," Amy finished.

11 nodded rapidly, but his eyes focused intently on Rory. Rory felt the boy wanted to tell him something… But what? "I got here yesterday," 11 said slowly, "along with that other kid… _John_ was it?"

Oh, Rory thought. So that's what he was doing.

For a moment Rory wavered. Should he go along with it? Did he trust 11?

Honestly, Rory didn't know the boy, but _John_ on the other hand… Rory hadn't known John long, but he trusted him.

If 11 and John were truly one and the same, then whatever 11 had planned, it was probably what John wanted also, at least to a certain degree. And John would never do something to hurt them. Not to mention, John had also been extremely reluctant to reveal this part of himself. Rory doubted he would want everyone to know his secret.

All of this went through Rory's mind in a single moment and decided, he nodded and moved to put an arm around around the boy. "Yeah," Rory answered and nodded at Rose, "I saw him come. It was a bit late last night. Most everyone was asleep so I agreed to help him find his room.

Rose frowned suspiciously, sensing a rat. "Uh-huh." Her eyes flicked questioningly to Amy, who looked at them in bemusement. Slowly a smirk grew on the red-head's face. She'd caught one. "Is that right?" Rose asked her.

Amy nodded. "Rory introduced me to… ah, _Matthew_ here a few hours ago. He's cool."

For a moment Rose shifted, not quite sure what to believe, but running feet interrupted their conversation.

"Who's that?" Rory asked, pulling away from 11. Running up the stairs outside were several dark forms that soon could be identified as Vastra, Jenny, Adric, and Martha. Vastra and Martha carried someone up and they dropped him in an awkward heap once they entered the light.

Wiping her brow, Martha bent down to inspect the body. "Jack is taking longer than usual, Vastra. Should I take him to the infirmary?"

"Why not? Adric, help her carry him."

11 kept his hands clasped behind his back to keep them from shaking. He wasn't use to being around so many people. Most of the time it was just him and Sarah Jane…

But truthfully that wasn't what made his hands shake. He would never admit it, but he had no idea what he was doing. In a single, compulsive motion he found a way to separate himself from John for the first time in his entire life.

And then Amy named him. Sure it was probably the first name that came to her mind, insignificant to her, but he didn't care. She gave _him _a name. Like he was a real person, not some messed up, alternate version of John. And Rory went along with it! Rory seemed hesitant, but he was willing to trust him, if only for the moment.

That meant more to 11 than Rory would ever know.

With his eyes glued to the floor, but 11 couldn't help his mind from quickly racing through the people, finding John's memories of them and categorizing them in his own head. He saw people differently from John. They were strings of flowing information that didn't always fit together right, not colors the way John understood them to be.

_Rose Tyler- 17 years, four months, 23 days old. Afraid of the dark. Loves fish and chips. _

_Jenny- values her agility. Likes winter evenings with a cup of tea and a book. Blooming cat woman..._

_Martha- Wants to be a doctor, which would be convenient with her ability. Dislikes boys in general except for recently…_

_Wait._

He ran a quick background check with John's memories on Martha and had to keep himself from chuckling.

_She wouldn't find John attractive if she really knew how much of an annoying prat he is…_

Shaking the information away mentally, he continued categorizing, unable to stop.

_Jack- dead/not dead. Revival is a bit like our re-generational ability, but he's only got one body. A lady's man. Forty-seven and… a half girlfriends. The half girlfriend was a strange woman whose lower body lived separately from her upper body…_

"Matthew."

_Rory- likes the color red. Hates sushi. Totally into Amy…_

"Matthew!"

11 jumped, shaking his head quickly. _Right. That's me_. _Matthew._ "Sorry, what?"

Rory gave him a concerned glance.

"Were you talking to me?" 11 asked, cocking his head, "I wasn't listening."

"Yeah, I got that," came his response.

The other members of the Elite had mostly cleared out by now, exhausted. It was clear that Vastra was waiting for them to leave before she left herself.

"You are to tell _no one_ about what you have seen this evening," she said to the three of them, her voice deathly low.

Rory frowned. "You're not going to tell everyone? We were attacked!"

"By Cybermen," 11 added.

"And put the entire school in unnecessary panic? Absolutely not." Vastra shook her head. "Can I trust you to keep this a secret?"

Quickly Amy, and Rory exchanged glances. After a moment Rory nodded. "Yeah. We won't tell."

"Good," Vastra answered, apparently satisfied. "Now, back to your dorms. You shouldn't have been up here in the first place."

As one, the trio moved to go up the stairs, but as they left, Vastra quickly landed a cool hand on 11's thin shoulder.

He stiffened.

_Vastra- Very, very old. Hyper intelligent. An occasional appetite for blood…_

_And there's something else… _11 frowned, trying to read the words as they sped past. Finally he caught another glimpse.

_Daggonit she knows. Course she knows._

"You stay here... _Matthew_, was it?"

Slowly 11 gulped and turned. At the top of the stairs Rory hesitated but Vastra waved him away and with a last worried glance, Rory disappeared along with Amy.

Then it was just Vastra and 11 in the front hall.

For a moment neither of them said anything. They stared resolutely at each other and 11 considered keeping up his ruse but trashed the idea quickly. There was no point. She knew. The information said so.

"What?" he finally sighed, slightly bitter.

Vastra's eyes were busy zipping up and down him.

_Vastra- Hates war. Loves opera..._

"John?" she said slowly, as if she didn't quite believe herself. "Is that _you_?"

11 flinched. John. It always went back to him. "It's rather complicated… I'm 11. John told you about us. I remember."

"Do you?"

"They're my memories just as well as his."

Vastra was silent, so 11 kept right on.

"And _you _are slightly telepathic, I believe. That's how you know who I am." He paused, one of John's memories rising to the surface. "But that doesn't make sense. Rory said psychics don't exist."

Vastra chuckled. "I'm afraid Rory is slightly confused. It's a matter of terminology. A telepath possesses _one _of many mind-related abilities. Sensing emotion, hearing thoughts, seeing forgotten memories, or mind control, for example. Even time travel is considered a mental ability in some circles, but it is a rare ability as it is and most don't survive their first trip."

11 nodded, not doubting her. "Time travel is a mental ability because the mind travels first, and then the body…"

Vastra blinked in surprise and nodded, but did not address the issue. "Psychics, on the other hand, possess all and more of those abilities."

"And… no one psychic is able to stay sane with all of that crammed in their heads…" 11 finished, nodding in understanding.

Vastra's look was priceless. She hadn't expected him to understand so easily. "Exactly," she murmured. For a moment she hesitated, but then she spoke. "But I believe that you are an exception… somehow."

11 expected her to say that. He knew who he was. He knew what they could do together. It was John who needed to know, or rather, to _believe_. Saying as much, 11 looked up at the woman and she nodded in agreement.

"He is being a bit difficult, but I suppose that is understandable." Pausing to think, Vastra's eyes met 11's. "Perhaps if he accepted that you are more than the product of a derailed mind..."

11 snorted. "Have fun with that. We've been trying for years. He doesn't remember anything we see. He doesn't know anything..." Now that he thought about that. He understood why John was so afraid.

But at the same time, if the idiot would just let them _explain_, everything would be so much easier.

Pulling himself away from the thought, 11 realized Vastra was staring at him.

"What?"

"You're a right mystery, child. You can't possibly exist."

11 snorted. "Says the green-skinned woman,"

Vastra's lips twitched. "Touche." Slowly she shook herself out of her thoughts and suddenly her eyebrows drew together. "You said _Cybermen _earlier, how did you know-?"

"-what they are?" 11 was more than willing to offer up the explanation. "I get general information about people when I look at them; what they love, what they hate, their age, that sort of stuff and things... I saw the word 'Cybermen' when I looked at John's memory of them, so... I said it."

Vastra cocked her head. "But... you don't see emotion like John?"

"No."

"Hmm," Vastra nodded slowly. "What you're describing sounds like mental surface scanning… While John , I believe, is an Empathetic…" For a moment she was still, but then she continued. "I have a _very _small inkling as to why you have your sanity, but I'll need to think on it more before I voice my theory." She looked him up and down. "Rory called you _Matthew_, but John refers to you by a number, which do you prefer?"

11 blinked. No one ever asked him _that _before. He thought for a moment and then made his decision. "I'd like it if you call me Matthew, but…" He trailed off and his eyes fell to the floor.

"What is it?"

"Please don't tell anyone about me and John being… the same."

To 11's surprize, Vastra chuckled. "They'll find out eventually. What will you do then?"

That was a good point. "Yeah…" 11 sighed, "It's just, I've never been just _me_, you know?" He pleaded to her with his eyes, willing her to understand.

Vastra smiled kindly. "I understand. And anyhow, it's your decision." Glancing at her wristwatch, she scowled at the time. "Dear me, it's getting late. You should go back to your room, Matthew. Can I speak to _you _tomorrow?"

11 shook his head. "I'll switch back to John once I fall asleep."

Vastra nodded. "Alright… I need to convince him anyhow. He hasn't got any medication to keep you lot hidden, does he?"

"He does but I hid it when he was sleeping."

"Good. Bring it to me the next time you can, alright?"

11 gave his affirmative,and a smile welled up inside him. Things were gonna change. John would be a pain in the butt, but he'd come around… eventually. And until then, John had no medication to stop him and the others from appearing when the opportunity arose.

As he walked back to his dorm, 11 found himself grinning and as he lay down to sleep, he felt reluctantly positivity. Even as he sank back into John's subconscious 11 couldn't help but feel that for the first time he wasn't just a number. Not anymore. He had a name now.

He wasn't 11. His name was Matthew.

**_AN:Told you I'd update fast! Sorry for that horrid cliffhanger on chapter 8 ;) Anyway, what do you guys think of 11? Is he in character? If something confuses you, please ask and I will try to clarify:)) anyway, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW!_**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Mirror Image

John woke up feeling like he'd been run over by a semi. Repeatedly. Groaning, he sat up slowly and rubbed his temples. It was morning time again and this reality took several seconds to cement, but when it did, John jerked upright and then cringed against the pounding in his head. How did he end up here? His last memory surfaced and John gulped.

He'd been injured. They were hiding from the metal-men. 11 decided to come to the rescue. The _nerve_!

Had there been someone else around?

Yes. That was right. Rory and Amy, his new friends, were hiding with him when it happened.

Standing quickly, John swayed on his feet and placed a hand against the wall to regain his balance. He needed to make sure they were alright. John glanced down at himself and hissed in annoyance. He was dressed, but not in something he would ever wear in public.

A wrinkled, striped dress shirt, a tweed jacket, dress pants, suspenders, and, good grief, a fracking bowtie. The pants were slightly short, the shirt a bit baggy, and, all in all, John looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Where the heck did you even get this stuff?" John muttered. His alter declined an answer and John rolled his eyes. Quickly John shed the undesirable clothing and replaced them with his typical attire, donning his trench coat out of habit more than anything. The coat was starting to grow on his affections.

Obviously, 11 had made himself quite at home while John was out. John's clothes were all over the floor, victim to 11's fashion wilms and John didn't bother to retrieve them. He could do that later. "Couldn't bother to clean up, I see," He muttered, "As usual."

_No offense, John, but you have horrible taste, _came 11's reply, _I had to walk around in your clothes for _ages _before I changed._

"And you think your taste is better?" John deadpanned.

_I must agree with John on this one, 11,_ answered another voice. _Your sense of style is atrocious._

11's reply was quick and sarcastic. _Says the celery man_.

_Oh, come off. You never know when you'll need a stick of celery. _

The voice seemed to come from slightly behind John and John turned toward the sound only to stiffen in shock. Slowly, he crept forward. There, in a mirror above his small sink, stood a man a few years older than John. His dusty hair was brushed to the left. He had cerulean, thoughtful eyes, and he wore a cricket uniform embellished with a stick of celery. He grinned at John for a moment and gave John a mischievous little wave before flickering out of sight. Finding himself looking into his own brown eyes, John blinked rapidly and slid away from the mirror.

That was weird.

"How did you do that?" John asked the empty air. He'd forgotten his urgency to leave in his surprise.

5, for that was who the celery man was, sent John the mental equivalent of a shrug before melting away into John's subconscious.

Frowning, John shook away the odd event and pulled on his shoes. He needed to find Rory and figure out how much time had passed since he'd changed. And what had happened to all those metal men? Hastily, John stumbled across his dorm and pulled open the door. The hallways were bustling, as they usually were, but John was too focused on his task to notice the shivering grey worry that clouded around each and every individual like mist.

Racing down the hall, John burst into Rory's dorm room without bothering to knock and skidded to a stop within. The walls of Rory's bedroom were crimson and light brown and a fur rug lay on the hardwood floor. Rory lay upside down in a tan hammock, reading an old comic book and he jumped in surprize when John burst in. Falling out of the hammock, Rory stumbled to his feet and slapped the comic book hastily on a bedside table. "John!" he cried, a grin appearing on his face. Quickly he raced forward and threw his hands over John's shoulders. "You're back!"

John blinked, relieved but slightly confused. He had just realized that he had no idea how he knew that this was Rory's dorm. Odd. "How'd you know it's me?" he asked slowly.

Now Rory looked confused. He frowned for a moment but then slowly something appeared to dawn on him. "Oh… right. He said you don't know."

He. That must be his alter, 11. "Don't know _what_?"

Rory's eyes left John's and he shifted awkwardly. "Right, well, John. All that crap about you not having special abilities… well, it's just that. Crap."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Now Rory's green eyes met John's brown and he gave him a lopsided smile. "You look different when you're them."

What.

John let out a confused little snort and took a step away. "What do you mean? That's- that's not possible"

"That's what _I _said." Rory replied with exaggerated patience. "But it doesn't change the facts. Matthew looks _nothing _like you. At all. It's like you're two different people."

John held up a hand quickly to stop Rory from speaking. "Wait- Matthew?"

"Your alter," Rory clarified, "We _kinda _didn't mention that you and him are the same person when we ran into some other kids.." Rory paused and frowned. "That's… alright, right?"

Numbly, John nodded. Actually, he was super relieved that they had done so. _They gave him a name. Brilliant. _And then to 11, _You failed to mention this development._

… _It wasn't relevant, dollophead._

John rolled his eyes. _What the heck is a dollophead?_

_Two words: John Smith_

Too busy arguing with himself, John failed to reply and Rory kept right on talking.

"Not to mention, you also sent out this massive, _totally epic,_ may I add, shockwave of energy or something! It freaked out all the Cybermen and they ran off!"

Very slowly, John fell back another step so that he was leaning against the door. This was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. He clenched his fist and slowly released it. "Cybermen?" he croaked.

"That's what Matthew called them. Totally weirded Vastra and Rose out. Apparently its some sort of secret or something." Finally, Rory seemed to notice John's pale face. His brow creased in concern. "You alright, John?"

John felt quite like throwing up, but he nodded. "Yeah… It's just a lot to take in at once, s'all."

"Yeah. Sorry. You kinda have to," Rory said quickly, "Vastra wants to meet with you as soon as possible. School was canceled today because most of the teachers are helping repair any damage that the Cybermen caused yesterday, so you don't have any classes."

"Anything else I missed? John asked, chuckling humorlessly. He had expected to have missed a lot, but not _this _much! And to learn that his alters had physical appearances? It took a massive amount of mental effort to cram the information into the back of his mind so that he could continue to function.

Rory shook his head. "That's about it."

"Right, um…" John quickly ran a hand through his hair worriedly before opening Rory's door. "You wanna come with?"

Nodding vigorously, Rory, quickly snatched a jacket off the wall and followed John. "I haven't got anything better to do."

"Good. I still don't know how to find the front door from here," John admitted, glad to speak about something besides his ridiculous life.

Snickering, Rory entered the hallway behind John and they quickly made their way outside. Vastra would probably be there, Rory figured.

After a moment, John glanced at Rory. "Thanks for, um, not telling everyone who 11 is." It was embarrassing enough that Rory and Amy knew.

"Yeah… I hoped you'd agree. Matthew really seemed to want it."

That stilled John's thoughts. Matthew. Matthew didn't want to be associated with John just as much as John didn't want to be associated with him. The realization was startling. John never thought of him as a person, not that he meant to be rude, but to be fair, he _had _considered 11 to be a figment of his imagination. Up until now, that is. Even after all he had seen, John was still reluctant to believe that he might not be insane.

11 had always been just that, 11. But the name _Matthew _was strangely fitting. He actually liked it, but squashed the emotion before 11 could get a whiff. He'd gloat for hours.

They reached the front door shortly and John gave Strax, the portly butler a sharp nod. It was returned instantly. "Ma'am!" Strax barked, snapping a salute.

Caught off guard, John glanced at Rory. Never mind that he'd been addressed at a 'ma'am', why had he been addressed at all? Rory shrugged and they moved on.

They padded down the white stairs, skipping past students that studied and socialized on the steps. Not far, amid the rubble of a taped off section the collapsing wall on the left wing, Vastra and several of the Elect inspected the damage. They were too far away for John to hear their voices, but given the purplish-grey mist surrounding them, John knew that they were worried. Maybe just a bit afraid.

"This doesn't happen, being attacked in the school, does it?" It was worded like a question, but he spoke it as a statement.

Rory shook his head, somber. "It's freaking everyone out," he murmured and they walked through the grass toward the rubble.

"I can see that." Now that he took the time, nearly everyone had at least a tinge of grey mist around them.

Rory gave him an odd look but didn't ask for an explanation. "We've been attacked before, but no one has ever gotten through the shields… The funny thing is, I work in Mechanics sometimes and there is no way anything like those Cybermen could have gotten through unless…"

"Unless what?" John's interest peaked.

Rory let out a breath of air from between his teeth. "I'm not an expert, but I know the basics about the shield. It's actually a machine that vibrates the air molecules so fast that no one can see or hear or touch what's beyond it. The atoms block the way, but your mind doesn't know what to do about it and invents whatever it wants to see beyond the shield."

John nodded slowly, realization hitting him. "That's why I thought the courtyard was empty before I came through the gate."

"Yeah. You expected it to be empty, so it was."

"What does that have to do with the Cybermen?"

"Well," Rory replied, "the molecules move at a certain frequency that blocks out anyone Vastra hasn't cleared for entrance. So unless someone gave them the frequency key, there's no way they could have gotten inside…"

John blinked. "Are you suggesting-?"

"-a traitor? Yeah."

By this time they reached the damaged west wing and both boys dropped the conversation. They would have to pick up that somber line of thought at another time. Seeing them, Vastra gave then a short wave before moving smoothly through the demolished glass and stone and ducking underneath the caution tape. She smiled gently at John and nodded at Rory. "Rory. John. Wonderful to see you as yourself once more."

_She knows,_ 11 offered belatedly_. She knows I'm you. _

_You couldn't have offered that info like, five minutes ago?_

Vastra gave Rory a pointed look and rolling his eyes, Rory backed away.

"I'll catch with you later, John." he said, walking back toward the school.

John's insides churned. He really didn't want to be alone with this woman. He trusted her, but she was an intimidating presence and the last time he spoke her, she insisted upon developing his abilities, not terminating them.

Although, now that he realized that Matthew was to some extent, a real person, John was reluctant to go down that route. He gave Vastra a tight smile and nodded. "Rory said you want to talk to me?"

Vastra answered with a nod, her green skales glinting in the autumn sun. "I know this is a bit unprecedented, but after seeing what you can do, or at least, have to potential to do, I think you will be an asset that just might win us this war. Given our recent problems and the war growing larger by the minute, there is no time to wait and develop your abilities."

John was shocked into silence. What abilities was she referring to exactly? Where was she going with this?

"I need you to join the Elite"

_**AN: **_**Sorry**_** it's been forever! I hope you liked this chapter even though not much happened! Get ready for a wild ride. We're finally getting somewhere now! Please leave a review!**_


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